


The List

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Friends to Lovers, Harry happens to love it, Louis likes to tease everyone, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Rich Harry, Spoiled Louis, Surrogacy, Travel, Wedding, travel AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andthetreewashappy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthetreewashappy/gifts).



_A delicious burn sears down Harry’s throat as he as swallows down the concoction someone pushed into his hand. The chaser he was using earlier in the night lays abandoned in the kitchen sink along with the other weaker beverages that no one has touched for hours. No, the burn is a good one that will stay with Harry until he gets another potent drink shoved into his hand with another sharp cry from one of his friends begging him to drink it. Niall hangs off of his right shoulder, cheering him and everyone else on as they take shot after shot, only to raise their glasses for more as soon they’re empty._

_They’ve been raging for days; a nonstop party that began in Thailand nearly a week ago when Harry sold the rights to his most profitable software idea yet to the most lucrative developer in the country. Not that Harry hasn’t been heavily rewarded in the past for his ingenious ideas, but this particular one came with a pay day that nearly caused him to stagger over upon signing the contract._

_The first time it happened Harry rented the entire top floor of a club in London. Needless to say he had been frugal back then and completely unaware of how wealthy he had become overnight. He had grown more used to the idea of his money by the second piece of software he created and sold which was marked by a party held in the huge house he had been living in for under a month. A party for which he spent more money on the cleanup than on the actual celebration, but was well worth it in the end._

_The third and most extravagant party he threw took place over a whole weekend where he and twenty of his closest friends came close to nearly destroying a castle he rented in France. The events of that weekend are still blurry. The only event he can accurately recall was the renter being so red and angry in the face that he banned Harry and his friends from ever returning, though it wasn’t like Harry really needed to come back and rent the castle when at that point he could have technically bought the thing ten times over. All of those nights were pretty tame all things considered. Each milestone unforgettable in its own way, so this time Harry knew he needed to kick it up a notch or two; maybe even three or four._

_When he told everyone to pack their bags because they were leaving for Thailand on the next flight out, he wasn’t met with any resistance. It was a thirteen hour trip that left most of them drowsy and jetlagged upon arrival, however all of that was easily remedied with a little daytime relaxation at a resort he didn’t even bother to check the price for. They woke up just in time to watch the sun go down. Just in time for the nightlife scene to get started. Just in time for the real holiday to begin._

_Thailand was like nothing Harry had ever experienced in his life with the alcohol and drugs coursing through his system making everything tangible, magnified, and more glorious. They traveled through the street markets with a few locals at their sides, eating food and drinking things they never even knew existed. They hit every club and rumored hot spot they could find, and there seemed to be a new spectacle to behold at every turn. Harry was determined to experience it all, even going as far as spitting fire with the street performers, and tattooing Niall when Harry could no longer stand the thought of his pasty Irish skin returning back to the UK without a single drop of Thai ink._

_The party stretched on for days until they had gotten kicked out of so many places that the authorities had begun to take a special interest in them, following them around just waiting for them to cause trouble enough to be banished to a foreign jail cell. To avoid that fiasco, they all showed up at the airport with no tickets, no money (thanks to Harry misplacing it all), and no plan, but Harry had his phone and the number of his bank and financial advisor, which for Harry was just as good as having cash in hand. Within fifteen minutes he and all sixteen of his guests were booked and checked in for their return trip home without Harry having to lift a finger._

_Sleep and recuperation were welcomed on their long flight, supplying them with more energy than should’ve really been possible after coming off of a five day binger, but the night was still young by London’s standards when they landed and the airport just didn’t feel like a good enough send off for their time together. The party reconvened at Harry’s house to give their holiday a proper farewell worthy of his great accomplishments, and the amazing time they weren’t quite ready to let go of. Every person present raised a final toast to Harry’s career and the fortune he had barely even carved a dent in._

_The night is still in full swing even though they’ve been back in the country for hours now. Harry’s drunk and exhausted and so fucking happy that he feels weightless where he’s staring out at the city from the top floor of his home surrounded by all of the material things that only money can buy, but also surrounded by the people who loved him even when he could barely afford to go to school, let alone fly them half-way around the globe. He’s got the best of both worlds and he knows without a doubt that he is lucky. He just might be the luckiest man on Earth, so really, what kind of person would he be to not take full advantage of everything he has been given?_

 

Three years later

Getting Phillip off of the phone is a lot easier to do than it used to be, and even so it still takes Harry about half an hour to wear him down. He’s sure that being the lawyer and financial advisor to someone who has as many irons in the fire as Harry is a tough job, but he refuses to believe that it demands the amount of time and attention that Phillip wants him to invest in it. He used to spend hours lecturing Harry about the huge sums that seemed to disappear from his accounts after spending time out with his friends and family or simply from Harry being bored and treating himself to a shopping spree or five, but Harry has long since settled down since those early days and hardly ever makes outlandish purchases anymore without first consulting Phillip.

The man means well, but his phone calls can be quite tedious, especially when the only topic up for discussion is Harry’s upcoming annual financial review, also known as the dullest two hour meeting about money ever known to man. Harry had done a pretty good job of putting off the inevitable; thirty-seven days’ worth of avoidance to be exact, but Phillip eventually grew tired of begging Harry to sit down and discuss his finances so he showed up one day at Harry’s door and marched the both of them straight to this very study to get it over with, and so the monotony began.

Outlined in front of him were the various banks and accounts that currently hold all of his assets, and in the over-sized armchair in front of him sat the only person who could ever make sense of it all staring at Harry, unimpressed behind the rim of his thin glasses.

Not all of it was hard to understand of course. He had to sign off on the emergency accounts for his family and close friends (even though they’re all too stubborn and proud to actually use them), the accounts he keeps open to pay his bills and the people on his payroll. The holdings for all of his charity work and investments had to be approved for the year as well, and everything else (which happened to be quite a lot) was money reserved for absolutely nothing at all except Harry’s hobbies, interests, and expensive collections. Phillip used to be pulling at his hair by the time they got as far as Harry’s random spending, but Harry hasn’t been doing much of that these days.

After his long, swirly signature had graced nearly twenty sheets of paper and he had been properly lectured (again) about minding his balances, Phillip cleared his throat while fixing Harry with a look of deep contemplation. It was unsettling to say the least. He and Phillip were always strictly business. He knew everything there was to know about money and the law, so Harry couldn’t understand why he looked so tight and uncomfortable now that their meeting was almost at an end. He cleared his throat again, and suddenly Harry was a lot more concerned about what was going on.

“Mr. Styles,” he had begun in the same official sounding voice he always used. The way he was looking at him was still strange though. It still made Harry sweat bullets wondering what had happened.

“I’m going broke aren’t I?” It’s the only thing Harry could think of that would warrant such peculiar behavior, but Phillip quickly shook his head.

“No, Mr. Styles, of course not. This isn’t about your lack of funds. Actually, it’s complete opposite.” He furrowed his bushy white eyebrows in a way that made Harry feel like he was in trouble. “In the event of your death-”

Harry stopped him before he could even finish.

“My mother will handle everything. My properties, finances, everything. ” They had been over this a million times before. This has always been the plan. His mother is the only person he knows who is fair and just enough who could handle dealing with all of his bullshit. She’d take care of everything and everybody like she always does. He’d pick her always. No contest.

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Phillip agreed impatiently, “But if she couldn’t. In the event of _her_ death… If there were other people to account for…”

Harry hadn’t really given that much thought. His sister or his step-father maybe? Hell, maybe even Phillip himself would continue to manage his money if no one else was alive to do it. Phillip spoke up after his long silence, sensing that he had stumped Harry for an answer.

“We need to talk about what happens next for you. Your _plans_. We need to account for the things you’ll have later in life, maybe even sooner than you think.”

Harry slid forward in his chair to blink at Phillip with his most confused expression yet as he tried to decipher his words. “Phil, what the hell are you talking about?”

“ _Kids_ , Mr. Styles. A wife.  A family. A life different from the one you’re currently living. Since the beginning we’ve been having these meetings and discussing your finances, yes, and you always make sure that you and your current family and friends are taken care of, but what about the family you’ll have later on? You’re twenty-eight years old,” Phillip reminded him. Harry rolled his eyes. As if he could ever forget. “I think it’s past time we start planning for what’s to come.”

It was all a bit too much to be quite honest. Kids?  A family? A fucking _wife_?

“Is this- Are you doing this because I avoided having this meeting for so long?”

Harry had only ever witnessed the man smile a couple times before, but a small, very fond grin graced Phillip’s mouth at his question. “No. This isn’t a punishment, Mr. Styles. This is called preparation. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t counsel you through transitional periods in your life.”

 _Transitional?_ Harry is the most single person he knows. “I’m not even dating anyone,” Harry scoffed. He added the next part just to be an arse. “And if I were looking to get married I definitely wouldn’t be in search of a wife,” he muttered.

He got a big, genuine smile out of Phillip that time. Even a bit of a chuckle. “No, Mr. Styles, I should think not, but it would have been rude of me to assume. Either way, your life won’t always include just you. It may seem that way now, and I know the things I’m talking about seem a lifetime away, but you’re young and things can change rather quickly.”

“You called me old a couple of minutes ago,” Harry pointed out. “Twenty-eight remember?” he mocked in a voice as burly as Phillip’s as he could.

“I believe I said you were old enough to start taking responsibility for your future…You aren’t old until you’re my age,” he joked, “But I do think it’s past time.” With everything Phillip had just thrown at him, Harry suddenly felt older than he had in his entire life.

Harry feels both age and boredom pulling at him now where he’s sitting hunched over the endless piles of envelopes and letters on his study desk that never seem to diminish no matter how many he opens. He resumes the great task of filtering through his mail now that he has gotten Phillip off the phone, placing thank you cards and letters in one pile with invitations and other junk in another just so he can feel like he’s being productive. He shouldn’t let his mail pile up like this. Harry swears to himself each time he finally reads it all that he’ll never let it get that bad again, but then a month or so passes and he ends up right back where he started, covered in paper cuts and sporting bloodshot, weary eyes.

He picks a random envelope from the top of the heap and settles in for the lengthy thank you letter from one of his the charities he works with. He had been reading in earnest, but impatience caused him to start skimming to get the main details by the time he made it to the middle of page one. Harry loves to support the charities that he’s involved with. He loves helping out, and each one is very near and dear to his heart, but the fine print is never as fun to deal with as the actual helping part, and sometimes the after-effects of giving away money can be tiresome. He places it in the _read_ pile when he’s finished.

Since the letter he picked had been so long, this time he chooses a smaller and less intimidating envelope instead. It’s an invitation to some gala event being thrown in two weeks by one of his many acquaintances. A gala that Harry has no intention of attending no matter how fancy the card, so he places the invitation in a new pile he is calling _declined_ , making a mental note to respond to the rsvp and do just that.

Not much changes in the next few minutes, and soon his declined pile holds so many rejects that it’s beginning to topple over from the height. He reaches for another small envelope, liking the speed with which he’s moving through these a lot more than he did with the long-winded letters. The one his fingers land on is light blue with a raised engraving of an upcoming date on the front. The fancy script and color makes Harry immediately assume it’s another baby announcement; a boy, but when he opens it there’s a handwritten note inside with the _i’s_ undotted and the _t’s_ half-crossed. The handwriting is slanted and scribbly and undoubtedly the work of his best friend. Harry grins to himself just imagining Niall sitting down to write a proper letter rather than sending him a text. Harry has had the task of decoding his chicken scratch many times before, mostly in the form of Sharpie marker on various parts of his body after a wild night of drinking, but this, this feels different.

_Dear Haz,_

_I know what you’re thinking and it’s probably the same thing I thought when Camille said I had to personally write you to invite you to our engagement party; what the fuck for??? I tried to tell her that we talk almost every day and that you’ve technically been invited to my engagement party since we were kids, but she says things like this need to be personal and have to be done the right way, so don’t be a dick after you read this because I’m only doing it because she would’ve had my head if I didn’t, and you know how I can’t say no to her anyway._

_So again, THIS IS YOUR OFFICIAL INVITE. You must attend. You have to be there and not just for an hour pretending to have fun. I don’t want to hear any of that griping and complaining shit you do these days when people ask you to go out. I’m getting married and you’re going to celebrate with me. You’re also going to RSVP so Camille doesn’t kill me._

_Love you bro,_

_Ni_

Harry turns it over to read the details of the party he had only ever heard about in passing, taking in all of the new information with a furrowed brow. His best friend getting married has been a milestone in the works for a while now. Niall finally proposing to Camille and the fact that they’ll actually be married someday isn’t something Harry typically thinks much about from day to day, but the magnitude of just how important this all is hits Harry as he blinks down at the scribbly note in his hand.

He walks over to the large window overlooking the city, wondering how the kindest, loudest, and most easygoing person he’s ever known has managed to mature, find someone to share his life with, and settle down all before Harry even realized what was happening. It seems all of Harry’s friends have grown up and moved on from the days and nights of the past when their only concern was having a good time. Harry’s biggest concern back then was living life to the fullest, but that’s kind of hard to do when everyone he knows seems to be moving on without him. Harry has calmed down a considerable amount as well, don’t get him wrong, but he’s nowhere near ready for the things that Phillip and everyone else keeps insisting are just on the horizon for him.

Harry clears a small spot amongst the clutter on his desk and lays down the invitation to the only party he cares about. The sacred spot is now dubbed the _yes_ pile even though it only contains one item. Over the years wedding and engagement parties have come to replace the wilder events that Harry used to regularly attend and throw. He hasn’t been much for any of it these days though. His friends can’t just pick up and fly off to Thailand at a moment’s notice anymore, but that shouldn’t stop Harry from being happy for them when something major is happening in their lives, especially if that someone is his best friend.

Harry slumps down into his armchair with his phone placed against his ear. He grins when Niall answers after the first ring. “I got your invitation.”

“Fucking finally. We sent those out almost a month ago.”

Harry’s eyes fall on the paper massacre currently littering his desk. He’s sure Niall’s invitation has been in his house for weeks. “I’ve been kind of busy.”

“You mean you’ve been lazy as fuck,” Niall mutters. “I meant what I said too. You better RSVP. She’ll kill us both.” Harry has no time for idle threats. So what if his RSVP is a little late? Camille loves him, and if she is upset, well, he knows just how to fix that.

“Tell Camille that if she can overlook my tardiness just this once then I can overlook the prices of both of your engagement gifts.”

Niall scoffs into the phone. “That shit might work on her, but I can’t be bought.”

Harry knows that’s a lie, but he’ll play along. “Alright then, Ni. You get _two_ gifts. I’ll even let you choose one of them. It can be as lavish as you want,” Harry bribes.

The words are barely out of his mouth before Niall accepts. “Alright, you’ve convinced me. I want two cases of that beer I loved when we were in Brussels. _Two_ ,” he emphasizes like it’s a detail Harry may choose to conveniently forget. Harry smiles, remembering how Niall had tried to drink two cases worth in one sitting the night he first discovered it. He doesn’t think it’s the best idea, but Harry swears that he’ll have it imported immediately, and just like that all is right with the world.

Harry’s tardiness and complete disregard for their timeline is forgotten as Niall launches into a huge overview of party details. Harry has never been particularly enthusiastic about an event such as this, but there’s something about the level of Niall’s excitement that feels almost contagious. Not enough to want to go out and propose to someone of course, but enough to think that maybe one day they could be having this conversation again but for Harry instead. It’s unlikely, but hey, things could change in an instant. At least that’s what Phillip says anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

The collar of Harry’s jacket has been bothering him all night where the fabric rubs against the nape of his neck. He wanted out of it the moment he put it on, but at the beginning of the night the other guests were still dedicated to maintaining the picture perfect image of Niall and Camille’s party. Now that everyone has had a few drinks in them and most of the serious toasts and speeches are out of the way, most guests have loosened up enough to start slipping out of their heels and untying their ties, so Harry decides to join in.

He slinks back in the steel wrought chair beneath him and swishes around the champagne at the bottom of his glass. Most of the people that had been at his table earlier in the night were couples, all of which have been swept up with the music for the better part of an hour, leaving Harry alone to watch them as the moon and stars peek in through the wall-sized windows surrounding them .

It’s not like he particularly enjoys dancing anyway, but it’s pretty boring sitting all by himself. Every now and then one of his friends will come by to tease him about being anti-social (Niall has already been by a grand total of eight times and it’s _his_ party), but for the most part Harry has enjoyed watching the happy couple smiling and looking so incandescently happy. The married life is not something he wants for himself at the moment, but it’s hard not be at least a little jealous of the glow that always seems to follow Niall and Camille.

The other couples on the dancefloor simultaneously move closer as the music softens to a slower song. Harry shifts his weight as he checks the time on his phone. Niall said he had to be here for at least an hour. He has endured nearly three, Harry notices as he swallows down the rest of his drink and his other fist closes around the jacket he just took off. He decides it’s time to go, but when he sits the empty glass back on the table there’s an unfamiliar man in a white button-down sitting across from him.

The man takes a long sip from his beer bottle like it’s completely normal for him to be there watching Harry. The man grins at Harry with a slight nod of his head. “Mind if I sit down, mate?”

“Uh….no?” Harry blinks at the question and wonders why this man he has never met cares whether Harry minds or not. “I was actually just about to leave, so I was just finishing my drink…”

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad,” he replies without taking his eyes off the dancers. “Have a goodnight, then.”

He gives Harry a kind grin before turning away to observe the rest of the party again with a slightly wistful expression. Harry’s eyes fall on the man’s golden skin and the collage of tattoos that peek out from where his shirtsleeves have been rolled up to his elbow; a bird of some kind, a rope, and a tea cup to name a few that stand out, and there’s also some script visible where the top three buttons of his shirt have been left undone. His hair is artfully messy the way very few people can actually pull off, and even though he’s not even looking at Harry anymore, he still feels intrigued by his presence, finding it hard to walk away.

Harry has met his one hour requirement for being here. Nothing is really keeping Harry at this party anymore, but there’s also no one forcing him to leave either and this man looks like the most interesting person Harry has seen all day.

“So are you here by yourself?” Harry asks as he’s getting comfortable in his chair again. It’s not like he can’t spare a few more minutes.

The man grins over at Harry like the answer to that should be painfully obvious. “Oh, yeah, I am. Thought I was the only poor bastard here without a plus one, that is until I saw you over here moping.” Harry returns his grin even though he’s a bit embarrassed at being called out. He’s used to being alone at events like these, however people usually aren’t bold enough to point it out. The man doesn’t even apologize for making him uncomfortable. He gets right to the good stuff, firing off a series of questions in one breath. “So, what’s your name? What’s your story? How do you know the future bride and groom?”

His directness puts a smile on Harry’s face. This man is most definitely the oddest person he has met in a while and he hasn’t even known him a whole ten minutes.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up when the man slides his chair back to prop his heels up on the delicate, white table cloth that Harry has been trying all night to keep stain free. He takes another lazy sip of his beer and settles in as he waits for Harry to begin.

Once Harry is able to wrap his head around Louis treating the décor and furniture like he owns the place, he begins answering all of his questions. “Uh…my name is Harry. I live here in the city and I’ve known Niall since I was a kid.” The man nods slowly as he takes the information in, but doesn’t yet offer anything about himself. Harry is so fascinated by him that he just has to know something. “What about you?” he prompts.

“I’m Louis Tomlinson, I’m the owner of the establishment we’re currently celebrating in, I’ve known Camille and Niall for about a year, and at this moment I’ve never loved anything as much as I love this weird beer whose name I can’t pronounce,” he says lifting the bottle for emphasis.  “It’s fucking amazing. Someone said one of Niall’s friends had twelve cases imported from somewhere. Cheers to that guy wherever he is.”

So he likes the beer he ordered… Harry doesn’t know why but Louis liking his extra gift to Niall is what sticks out to him the most. “It’s from Belgium, actually. Niall and I went a couple of years ago and he fell in love with it. He only asked for two, but I couldn’t resist. I figured it would make a good gift.”

Louis’ eyebrows rise a few centimeters, clearly impressed by this new development. “So _you’re_ the mysteriously posh friend? Well, I wish you were my friend. Fuck, I’d get married tomorrow if it meant I’d get a dozen cases of this stuff.” Harry laughs at the way Louis sips at his beer again and seems to savor the taste of it on his tongue. “Niall is a lucky man. And you, sir, are a great friend.”

“Well I’m glad you think so.” They fall silent after that, so Harry tries to salvage their conversation, thinking back to the other bits and pieces that Louis told him. “So you said you own this place?”

Louis rolls his eyes, like it’s his routine response to this type of inquiry. “Yeah, I do. Not by choice, but that’s boring. Let’s talk about you,” he suggests with a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “What are you doing here alone? Let me guess…” he gives Harry a playful once-over, “Wife’s at home with a cold?”

Harry’s face twists into a grimace he can’t control. He doesn’t have anything against women, honestly, but why does everyone assume that he has a fucking wife?

“Wrong. I’m not married…and if I were I wouldn’t be married to a woman,” he answers back petulantly.

Louis’ laugh is amplified as he snorts into his beer bottle. “Yeah, I figured you weren’t into that sort of thing. Your boots sparkle more than the crystal we’re drinking out of, but I didn’t want to assume.”  The slight annoyance on Harry’s face fades away when he meets Louis’ playful eyes. He tries to be offended but Louis’ energy is contagious.

“Alright, then. What about you?” Harry smirks, putting all of the pressure on Louis instead. “Where’s _your_ wife? At home with the kids?”

Louis’ eyes turn sad as he watches the couples embracing on the dancefloor.

“No. She died.”

Harry’s face pales as he sits up, absolutely mortified. “Oh God, _Louis_. I am so sorry. I-I didn’t know. We were joking around and I- I didn’t mean to be so insensitive. God I-”

“No, no. It’s okay. I mean, it was quick and a long time ago. We were young and I’m mostly over it now, you know, especially since she never even existed to begin with…”

Louis cuts his eyes over at him as he takes another sip from his beer. He splutters a laugh into the bottle when realization dawns on Harry’s face, and Harry is absolutely furious, really he is, and yet he still ends up laughing with the arsehole across from him. Harry groans as he drops his head to hide in the crook of his elbow when his cheeks feel so red that they burn.

“I cannot believe you just did that! I felt _horrible_!”

Louis is still clutching at his stomach as his whole body shakes with laughter. Harry is mad at him, or at least he wants to be, but it’s not so easy to be angry with someone who has grown on him this much in such a short amount of time.

“Oh my God, your face! You thought I was a fucking _widower_!”

So, Louis is clearly the _worst_ type of person; the jokester, annoying as hell type to take the piss and keep rubbing it in until Harry has to fling himself off of a bridge somewhere to escape the shame of whatever he did. It’s infuriating coming from most people, but with Louis Harry doesn’t mind being teased.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s enough. Haha. I’m gullible and a nice person and you’re a terrible human being,” Harry mumbles, catching onto Louis’ sense of humor. “You’re like Satan with tattoos and a nice button-down.” He also has blue eyes and a warm laugh that Harry likes, but he doesn’t think Louis really needs those details.

Louis’ eyes are still lit even though he has mostly stopped laughing by now. “Hey, at least next time you’ll be prepared and realize when I’m being a lying sack of shit.”

Next time, huh? Harry reaches for the half empty bottle of champagne on the table as Louis continues to grin to himself. He pours himself another generous amount and settles back into his chair. “Are you quite finished making stuff up?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

Louis tilts his head like he’s really thinking about it. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you going to tell me about your hotel? Or were you lying about that as well?”

Harry looks around the large sunroom they’re sitting in, remembering the few suites upstairs that some guests had mentioned they were staying in. The house isn’t really big enough to be called a hotel, but Harry isn’t quite sure what else to call it. It’s more like an old manor house or mansion, but it’s really not large enough to be called those either.

“My great-grandfather bought this place really cheap off some rich guy who was going broke back in the day. He raised his family in it, but also rented out the extra rooms to people who needed somewhere to stay while they were travelling or whatever. He died and left it to my grandfather, he died and left it to my father, he fucked off and signed it over to my mother, and she didn’t want anything to do with it, so here I am; the owner and manager of The Tomlinson House, the oldest and creepiest bed and breakfast on this side of town. It’s falling apart in places and it’s a bitch to maintain, but it’s been in the family for so long that I felt bad letting it go.”

Harry takes another quick look at the architecture of the room. It doesn’t look as old as the other parts of the house that clearly have a lot more history behind them. “Is this part new then? It doesn’t really match the rest of the building.”

“Yeah. My grandfather had it added on back in the seventies. It’s good for events like this. Camille instantly fell in love with it when she came to visit once, so I let them have the party here. It was the best gift I could think of.”

“Well they seem to be enjoying themselves, so I think you’ve done alright.”

“Well it isn’t imported beer or anything, but I guess it’ll do,” he smiles.

Louis is back to teasing him for showing up everyone else’s gifts when Niall and Camille make their way over to them, hanging half off of each other with their cheeks pink from too many drinks. Niall is clutching two beers in his hand, alternating sipping from each as he ignores the other chairs surrounding them and takes a seat on Harry’s lap.

“I can’t believe you’re still here!” The two bottles clink behind Harry’s head when Niall hugs him. “Are you having fun? Do you love it?!” Harry shrinks back from Niall’s loud voice in his ear. Louis snorts a laugh at how closely he is speaking to Harry’s mouth.

“I’m having a great time, Ni. The question is are _you two_ having fun?” Harry asks looking between the future bride and groom.

“We’re having the _best_ time.” Niall slides off his lap to wrap Camille up in his arms. She giggles into his neck when he starts kissing all over her face. He murmurs a quiet ‘I love you’ just before connecting their lips, and Harry averts his eyes away from their intimate moment. His goal was to make himself invisible while they shove their tongues down each other’s throats, but he accidentally snorts a laugh when he catches Louis’ disturbed expression from having to witness their love up close. He sticks his tongue out to gag, but he’s also fighting a grin so Harry knows he doesn’t really mean it.

Harry isn’t sure what pulls the couple apart. Perhaps they realized they were being gross or maybe they simply ran out of air to breathe that wasn’t from each other, but eventually Camille comes back down to Earth to address them.

“Oh, Louis and Harry! You both are just so wonderful for everything you’ve done for us! We’re so lucky to have such kind people in our lives.” Harry shrugs off her praise, but Louis beams at the mention of his name like he’s encouraging her to continue. “Louis, you let us use this beautiful dining hall and put up some of our guests when they couldn’t find a place to stay that was close enough. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Well you’re very welcome, love. It was my pleasure.”

Camille turns her attention to Harry next. “And you, Haz. You helped fly out our relatives who wouldn’t have been able to afford to come and that was after you had already given us such amazing gifts. You did all of that and I still can’t believe the meeting you’ve set up for me with that designer. I don’t know who told you that I’ve been having a hard time finding a dress, but now I’ll have one made just for me and it’s going to be beautiful, I just know it. I’ll remember my wedding day forever and it’s all because of you. You’re too good to us, Haz.”

She leaves Niall’s side to bend down and hug him tight to her chest. She looks near tears when Niall lightly tugs at her arm to let go. Niall has a turn hugging each of them, but clings to Harry the longest. He pulls back with glossy eyes as well, but Harry knows they’re just happy, appreciative tears, and those are always the best kind.

They both wander off to go mingle with the rest of their guests after their little shared moment, and Harry clears his throat to get rid of any tightness or emotion. He reaches for his champagne glass and looks up to find Louis gawking at him with his mouth hanging open.

“Exactly how rich are you?” he wonders aloud. Louis takes a distracted sip of his beer, but he doesn’t seem interested in the alcohol anymore now that Harry’s squirming under his close scrutiny.

Talking about his money to strangers has always made him feel self-conscious. His mother has always told him that discussing finances is rude, so he plays the modesty card like always.

“I do alright.”

Louis narrows his eyes at his extremely vague answer. Harry tries to avoid his stare, but Louis seems determined to figure him out. “Oh no, none of that _we’re all rich in life and love_ shit,” he teases. “Come on. Let’s have it. How much was this beer?”

Harry fights the urge to gossip with Louis about the amount of money he spent on alcohol for his best friend, but he can’t fight it for long with the way Louis’ leaned in and smiling at him in wait.

“…It wasn’t cheap,” Harry finally says.  

“ _Boooring_ ,” Louis sings off-key. He rolls his eyes at Harry and slumps back in his chair. “You can do much better than that, love.”

Harry bites down on his bottom lip. He can’t believe he’s playing this game with Louis. Harry doesn’t even remember agreeing to play in the first place. He sighs right before giving in. “It may or may not have been a little over two grand…maybe even a bit closer to three?” Harry winces.

“Three grand?! For _beer_?!” Louis’ jaw drops further like all of this information is blowing his mind, but Harry refuses to believe that money is a foreign concept to him. His family owns this huge fucking house for God’s sake. Actually, _Louis_ owns this huge fucking house if they’re being technical here.

“You own this big, old mansion,” Harry points out when Louis starts examining the beer inside his bottle like it’s liquid gold.

“Yeah, with _old_ being the key word there _._ It’s literally falling apart. Don’t try to turn your first-class guilt around on me, Harold. Admit it. You’re loaded.”

Harry goes to object, but really who is he kidding with his modesty act. Most people start acting weird around him when they realize his financial situation, however Louis liked him well before he found out he had money and from the way Louis’ eyes are still twinkling with mischief nothing has changed.

“What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done with your money?”

Louis is practically gagging for an answer, but Harry doesn’t really have anything good to tell him. He used to spend huge amounts of money on stupid shit all of the time, but he finds himself doing less of that the older he gets.

“I don’t know? I own some properties and land...I have a few cars. I bought Niall enough beer to last him the month…I’m not exactly living on the edge these days.”

“ _Jesus_ , mate.” Louis makes a face like that’s the saddest thing he’s ever heard. “Please tell me you’ve at least had sex in a pool full of your own money.”

Harry’s laughter takes him by surprise as he shakes his head. What kind of person even thinks of doing that?

“Tragic. That’d be one of the first things I’d do,” Louis sighs.

“It might sound like a good idea, but I don’t think it’d be very comfortable,” Harry laughs. “You’d probably get papercuts.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. It would probably be a mess to clean up too...”

“And money is gross,” Harry adds for the pure fact that it needs to be said.

“Yeah, that too, I guess,” Louis grins. They fall silent for a few beats, and Louis takes the opportunity to stare Harry down again like he’s the most interesting thing in the room. “If you could do anything in the world right now what would you do?”

Harry is finding it difficult to think past the conversation he’s having at the moment. If he’s honest, he quite likes talking to Louis as overly invested as that sounds.

“I have no idea. I haven’t done anything fun or just taken off on a whim in a long time...”

Louis shakes his head at him again like this answer is also unacceptable, but he does it with a fond expression that pulls at the corners of his lips. “Well we’re going to have to fix that, aren’t we?”

Louis says it like a promise, and Harry isn’t sure if Louis means it or not, but he’d love for Louis to set him straight.

“Well if you ever feel like being spontaneous let me know,” Harry offers.

Louis’ smile is wicked. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

He’s probably right. Louis has trouble written all over him, but something tells Harry it’s the good kind.

*

Spontaneity comes quicker than Harry would’ve guessed when the party dies down and he finds himself more intoxicated than he had ever planned to be. He ended up talking with Louis for hours and it seemed like each time they started a new topic Harry looked down to find a fresh drink in his hand. When he eventually stood up to tell him, the party’s hosts, and the remaining guests goodbye the room started swimming before his eyes.

It wasn’t like anyone was going to let him try to drive like that, and Harry wouldn’t dream of it anyway, but it did leave him in a bit of a predicament. Louis took one pitying look at him pouting in his chair and told him to take the extra suite upstairs. Harry had originally turned the offer down to be polite, but Louis could see through that in a quick second and forbade him from staying anywhere else, and really, who is Harry to disobey a direct order?

Most of Camille and Niall’s relatives have gone to bed by the time Harry is climbing the stairs to the top floor. He follows behind Louis as he rattles off random things about the sleeping arrangements, letting him know who’s in which rooms and where he’ll be staying. They pass five wooden doors before Louis opens one at the end of the dark corridor.

“Most of the rooms are much bigger, but they’re currently occupied by couples, so unfortunately you get the small one.”

“It sucks to be single,” Harry jokes.

“Don’t I know it. My own room is just as small as this one. I can’t justify taking a bigger suite when it’s just me sleeping in it, so I leave the nicer ones to the guests.” Harry peeks his head into the room with its fresh sheets and linens. It looks like a hotel room, only a bit more lived in with a worn bookshelf that looks like it has seen better days and the tiny window seat overlooking the back garden. He steps further inside to see the whole room and smiles at how cozy it is. “Think you’ll be alright till morning?”

“Yeah, Louis, of course. Thank you for letting me stay here tonight. I know you’ve got enough to handle with Niall and Camille’s guests staying. What do I owe you?”

Louis’ eyes roll so hard that it looks painful. “If you try to pay me for this room I will have to punch you.”

Harry giggles at that even though Louis looks completely serious about it. “I was trying to be polite.”

“Why don’t you try settling in instead,” Louis smiles. “I’ll get you something to change into. I’ll be right back. My room’s right next door.”

Harry nods and starts toeing off his shoes near the bed. He hangs his jacket over the back of the armchair near the wardrobe. He’s undoing his belt when Louis politely clears his throat at the door. He walks in holding a pair of joggers and a t-shirt with a smirk.

“Most guests wait until the door is _closed_ to start getting naked,” he comments.

“I’m still mostly dressed,” Harry frowns looking down at his pants still up on his hips. Louis laughs at him, but doesn’t say anything more about it.

“Your bathroom is only a half bath, so if you want to shower or anything you’ll have to use the one near the stairs. Breakfast is at eight, but if you end up leaving before then I understand. There’s towels and stuff on the sink and there should be new toothbrushes in one of the cabinets…please don’t hate me if it turns out I’m wrong.” He waits for Harry to nod before taking a couple of steps back towards the door. “I think that’s everything. If you need anything else remember I’m just next door.”

“Okay. I’ll come annoy you in the middle of the night if I need extra pillows or can’t connect to the wifi.”

“If you want me to never speak to you again, then please do that.” They laugh quietly until Louis takes a final look around the room. His eyes land on Harry standing by the bed and his gaze turns soft. “Sleep well, yeah? I don’t know when you’re leaving, but like I said, breakfast is at eight so you’re welcome to it.”

Harry would never leave without saying goodbye. He’s surprised Louis thinks that he would. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I’ll be the first one there,” Harry promises.

Louis laughs again before telling him goodnight and letting the door close behind him. He isn’t quite ready for Louis to leave him yet, but it’s getting late and everyone else is already in for the night, and it’s not like Louis is going to stay in there with him to chat until he falls asleep. Harry says goodnight through the door, even though he has no intention of sleeping just yet.

He lays in bed for long time, unable to drift off in a place so unfamiliar. It takes some time for him to wind down from all of the excitement and champagne of the night. He turns onto his side to find a more comfortable position and his eyes land on his and Louis’ shared wall. He can hear Camille’s uncle and his wife snoring in the room to his left, but he hasn’t heard any signs of life from Louis’. Harry wonders if he’s lying awake as well or if Louis has even made it to his room to go to sleep yet. He may not even be in there.

The question nags at Harry for a long while until he hears a creak just outside his door. It could be anybody really. The house is full of guests tonight, but Harry’s curiosity still drives him to get up and check.

Footsteps pass by his room again, so Harry rushes over to crack his door wide enough to step through. “Louis?”

His spirits sink when the source of the sounds turns out be Niall’s cousin turned around trying to find his room. His deep voice is as loud and cheerful as always when he squints to see Harry looking back at him.

“Harry! I didn’t know you were staying here too!”

Harry shushes him, mindful of Louis’ bedroom just a few feet away. If he is in there he’s definitely awake now Harry thinks bitterly.

“Uh, yeah I didn’t want to drive so I decided to stay here...” Harry says a softly as he can.

“Had a few too many then? Yeah, I understand. I was just getting some water from the kitchen. Don’t want a hangover tomorrow…” Robert tells him. He gives Harry a strange look as they stare at each other, both of them shirtless and dressed for bed. “… so what were you doing?”

“Oh. Me? I was uh, I thought I heard someone else or like…I don’t know. I heard a noise, so.”

“You thought you heard someone else?” Robert continues to stare at him. “What, like a ghost?” Harry turns to look over his shoulder when he hears the very distinct sound of someone giggling behind him. Robert is now eyeing him even more carefully. Harry doesn’t dare turn around to look for the source.

“No not like a ghost, Rob, like a _person_ \- like- like- never mind,” Harry settles on, instead of trying to explain why an errant noise caused him to get out of his bed and why he now suspects that Louis is wide awake and spying on their conversation through cracked doors. “I couldn’t sleep before, but I’m going back to my room now. Have a goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Robert doesn’t seem bothered by how short Harry is being with him. He waves at him before slipping back into his room. Harry waits to make sure he’s all the way inside before turning around to inspect Louis’ door. There’s no evidence of it being open a few seconds ago, but Harry knows he isn’t crazy and he would remember Louis’ laugh anywhere.

He presses his palm and right ear against the wood and hears nothing on the other side. He gasps when the door creaks open and he momentarily loses his balance. He stumbles back a few inches to find Louis watching him with amusement painting his sleepy features. “Boo.”

Harry can’t think of an explanation or an excuse quick enough before Louis starts laughing. “I wasn’t like, listening at your door or anything like that! I thought I heard-”

“A ghost? At least that’s what Robert thinks anyway.”

Harry opens his mouth to defend his actions, but what’s the point when Louis has already caught him. Louis raises an eyebrow at him, just waiting for Harry to get his lie in order when Harry gives up. He laughs and hangs his head in defeat.

“Alright. I thought I heard you listening from your room and I was checking to see if you were in there.”

Louis looks down at himself like he’s making sure he exists. “Well, I’m in here,” he smirks, and Harry rolls his eyes. He should be mortified, but once again Louis’ teasing just makes him blush and smile.

“I’m going back to bed. Goodnight a _gain_.” Harry announces when Louis is still smirking at him from the doorway. His eyes are tired, but they’re just as fond as they were earlier in the night.

“Goodnight, Harry.” He swears he can still hear Louis giggling even after he’s back in his room. Harry climbs back into bed to stare at their shared wall with a smile on his face, and Harry can’t remember the last time that happened.

*

Harry wakes up confused as he sits up in an unfamiliar room. The banging on his door that had initially jolted him into consciousness gets louder. Harry practically sprints to answer it, instantly regretting it when he swings the door open to reveal Louis standing there with a silver breakfast tray in his hands.

“Oh look, you’re alive.”

Harry feels like he has been hit by a truck he’s so tired. “I slept through breakfast.”

“You did, but luckily I am a gracious host and somehow Niall’s family didn’t manage to eat everything in the bloody house, so I thought I’d bring breakfast to you.” He pushes into Harry’s room to place the tray down on the table beside the bed and gestures for Harry to get back under the covers.

“Uh- I should get dressed. I’m not even wearing a shirt,” Harry tells him in lieu of letting Louis wait on him. He knows he missed breakfast, but breakfast in bed feels wrong to accept considering he’s staying here for free and is now overstaying his welcome.

Louis raises an eyebrow at Harry’s hesitance and the way he’s trying to cover his bare chest. “Get over here, eat the food, and pay attention. We have things to discuss,” he says brightly.

“What sorts of things?” Harry walks past him to finally sit on his bed and Louis places the tray in his lap. He expects Louis to continue standing where he is, but he climbs over Harry’s legs to sit against the headboard with him instead.

“Spontaneous things. We had a deal remember? You’re the boring gazillionaire who doesn’t even know how to spell fun and I’m the genius who’s going to help you.” Louis pulls a small notepad and pen out of the pocket of his joggers. He reaches into the other pocket to pull out a pair of black-rimmed glasses and slides them onto his face. He clears his throat once he flips to the page he wants and then turns to look at Harry in wait. “You’re not eating.”

Harry blinks down at the tray of food on his lap. He has been so fascinated by Louis that he forgot it was even there. “Sorry, I guess I’m still tired from last night,” Harry apologizes. He sticks a piece of broken-off toast in his mouth to appease him.

“Yeah, well, ghost hunting is hard work,” he says offhandedly. A grin pulls at Louis’ lips, but he’s clearly more focused with his notepad than with teasing Harry. “I googled some stuff this morning and a bit last night and I found some pretty cool things you might like. I’ll call them out and if you like them we’ll add them to the list. Now, how do you feel about Mount Kilimanjaro?”

_Mount Kilimanjaro?_

“Wait. What list did we agree on last night?” Harry’s face must be absolute confusion because Louis sighs hard at having to further explain.

“We’re making you a bucket list. Well, not really a _bucket list_ , but more like a list of spontaneity if you will. _Eat,_ ” Louis reminds him when Harry is simply staring at the side of his face. Harry pops an apple slice into his mouth and starts chewing. “So, back to the mountain.” Louis continues. “What do you think?”

Harry has never once given thought to Mount Kilimanjaro or any other mountain for that matter. “I don’t know? I think it’s lovely?”

“Lovely enough to climb?”

Harry’s eyes widen. “Absolutely not.”

Louis sighs next to him. “Yeah I figured that one was a long shot, but I’d thought I’d give it a go.” He looks down his list and picks another item. “Let’s start smaller. Have you ever been to Venice?”

“Yeah, when I was twenty-one I think. Business trip.”

“You mean boring trip,” Louis corrects. “Would you like to go back? You could see the great stone palaces and get wasted on good Italian wine as you float through the canals on a Gondola. It’s supposed to be amazing.”

All of that actually sounds really nice. Harry wouldn’t mind taking a trip like that, however he wouldn’t want to go alone. “It sounds wonderful…but would you be coming with me?”

Louis blinks over at him in surprise.

“I guess I could if you really wanted, but this list is supposed to be about _you_ having fun. Not me.”

“But I’d have fun _with_ you,” Harry tells him. “If I go to Venice, then I want you there too.”

The only sign Harry has of knowing whether or not Louis heard him is the small grin he bites down on. He doesn’t give Harry an actual answer but he looks flattered by the invitation. “I’ll add Venice to the list,” he says softly without looking up. Harry watches as he writes it at the top of a new page.

“Okay. We’ll go to Venice someday. What’s something you’d like to do? We should take turns,” Harry suggests.

Louis only thinks about it for a split second before he’s turning to Harry with excitement in his eyes.

“Skydiving!”

“Er- Oh,” Harry says, growing so pale that he’s concerned he may throw up just thinking about it. “Uh, o-okay. That sounds like…fun.”

“You look petrified!” Louis smiles. “We’re adding it _right now_!” He writes skydiving in right under Venice. “I’d want to do it someplace awesome too like Hawaii! Apparently they fly you up so far that you can see the whole island from where you jump off the plane!” He scribbles Hawaii next to it and Harry prays to God that this list never sees the light of day again, because there is no fucking way he’s jumping out of a plane, not even for Louis.

Harry makes sure to choose something a lot less extreme when it’s his turn again. “How about seeing Christ the Redeemer? I’ve always wanted to do that and I’ve never been to Brazil.”

Harry thought Louis would veto it immediately, but he nods to himself like he’s thinking about it. “Neither have I. It sounds like it could be fun, though. Rio is supposed to be beautiful, especially at night.” He adds Brazil to the list and puts Christ the Redeemer in parenthesis beside it. Harry glances at skydiving above it and snatches the pen away from Louis to put a big star beside his idea, because Rio trumps jumping out of a fucking plane any day.

They take turns that way for most of the morning with Harry making a suggestion and Louis either dubbing it too boring to do or agreeing whole heartedly. Louis’ proposals mostly scare the shit out of Harry, but he does come up with some safe ideas as well that sound pretty fun. By the end of the morning, they have written three pages worth of things to spontaneously do together and Harry won’t let Louis check the price for any of it.

“I don’t want to hear you complain when you end up bankrupt after we do all of these things,” he warns. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” Harry tells him with a roll of his eyes, and Louis doesn’t need much more convincing than that on the subject of money.

Harry takes the list from his hands and reads over it once more.

“So that’s it then? We’re _really_ going to do all of these things?” Harry can’t imagine them finding the time to do half of them.

“Every single one,” Louis grins. He pokes Harry in the chest for emphasis. “You’ll be having so much fun your bank account won’t know what hit it.” His eyes are electrified up this close and Harry can see every line of excitement etched into his face. He looks so thrilled at the prospect of scratching things off their list that Harry finds himself getting excited just from being near him.

“I can’t wait to get started.”


	3. Chapter 3

He gets a text from Louis almost a week from the day they made the list.

 _‘Feeling spontaneous?_ ’

Harry laughs to himself about how serious Louis is still pretending to be about this whole thing. He replies with a sarcastic, _‘Sure, Louis. Whatever did you have in mind?’_

Louis’ response comes a few seconds later. ‘ _Hmmm…The weather looks splendid for jumping out of a plane..._ ’

Harry frowns at the screen of his phone like Louis’ words have personally offended him. ‘ _Maybe next time._ _What happened to Venice? Wasn’t that first on the list?’_

 _‘Harry. Who actually does things in order?’_ Louis sends back. Harry can practically see Louis rolling his eyes at him. ‘ _You’re completely defeating the purpose of the list, but a structured trip is better than no trip, so sure! We can do Italy first if you’d like! Let’s fly out tonight.’_

Harry throws his head back to laugh. What does Louis expect? For him to drop everything and just go to Venice at moment’s notice?He asks him just that along with a couple of laughing emojis. _‘You want to drop everything and just fly to Venice tonight? Right, Louis. Sure. Let’s go.’_

_‘I’ve asked my sister to take over the house for me. She’ll be here in a couple of hours so get up, find us a flight, pack your stuff, send me the details, and I’ll meet you at the airport. I like a window seat.’_

Harry sits up now, staring at his phone like it’s some foreign device he’s never seen before. Louis isn’t joking around. He actually fucking means it. He wants to be on a plane to Italy in just a few hours, just like that, on a _whim._

Harry gets jolted out of his astonishment when Louis texts him again. _‘I’m going to punch you if we’re not on an airplane before midnight.’_ It’s a direct threat, but he reads it while fighting a grin. Louis may be smaller than him and have the kindest eyes he’s ever seen, but he’s kind of scary with how assertive he can be when he wants something. Harry doesn’t need much more of a kick in the ass than that to get moving.

He gets out of bed feeling only a little sad about the nap he was about to take. He sends Louis a series of questions he thinks are completely reasonable, but Louis dismisses them all and sends back, _‘You’re the detail oriented one here. I trust you. Just text me when everything’s squared away!’_

Harry hasn’t travelled in months. He doesn’t even know how long they’ll be gone. He needs to let his mother know that he won’t be by later for dinner. He needs to leave a note for his housekeeper so she knows he isn’t dead. He needs to pack. He needs to call Phillip and get these tickets booked before Louis Tomlinson comes to his house and murders him for making them take the red eye to Italy.

Harry dials Phillip as he digs through his storage closet to find his travel bag. Harry doesn’t have time to look up flights at the moment, but he’s hoping that Phillip will. He picks up around the fourth ring, which gives Harry time to wedge his favorite duffel out from under the mountain of expensive suitcases he never uses. This duffel is the one he used when he didn’t have the money to afford real luggage. It’s faded and worn, but he loves it, and he stuffs several pairs of underwear into it as Phillip’s voice rumbles in his ear.

“Good evening, Mr. Styles. I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.”

He’s referring to their conversation from this morning where Phillip calculated how much Harry has spent in the last couple of weeks. Harry had tried every excuse he could think of to get off the phone and avoid the lecture, but right now is different.  Right now Harry needs Phillip to work a miracle.

“I’m going on a trip with a friend. I need two seats on a flight to Venice. Any flight so long it’s tonight. One of them has to be a window seat.”

“Another gift for Mr. Horan, then?”

“Uh, actually, no. It’s not a gift and it’s not Niall. It’s someone else. Another friend.” Harry is thankful for Phillip not being the prying type. He just hums on the other end of the phone. Harry can hear the clicking of the keyboard he’s using.

“There’s a flight scheduled to leave Heathrow at eight forty-five this evening.”

Harry stops mentally debating over the identical pairs of black skinny jeans in his hands to pull the phone away from his ear and check the time. It’s a little after six o’clock. He can be out of the house with his belongings and on the way to the airport in just a few minutes. They can get the tickets right then and there, make it through check-in and security during the time that’s left and probably make the flight on time, but only if they hurry.

“That sounds perfect. Please reserve two seats in my name.”

“Done. I’ll also lift the limit on your travel account in case you have other expenses. Is there anything else you might need, Mr. Styles?”

Harry has no idea how long they’re staying, where they’re staying, or what they’ll get into while they’re there, but he knows Louis and this trip has excess written all over it. “Uh…I’m not sure, but I’ll call if I need anything else. Thank you for your help, Phil, really.”

“Of course. Safe travels, Mr. Styles.”

He shoots a quick text to Louis to confirm their plans before he resumes packing. All the while Harry can hear his mother’s voice in his head as he’s slinging things into his duffel bag because nothing is folded. He’s not sure if anything matches and his toothbrush isn’t even in a travel container by the time he’s rushing out of his front door. He called his driver as soon as he hung up with Phillip, so Anthony is waiting for him, idling in the drive as Harry climbs in. His bag is a mess and so is he, but at least he’s leaving on time.

Traffic plots against him, but Harry figured that would be the case given the time of the evening. Anthony gets him there with an hour to spare, but his heart is still pounding when he walks through the doors. The airport is big, but it seems even larger when Harry sets off in search of Louis. He looks around for a few minutes before he spots him on a bench listening to music.

“Finally. I’ve been waiting on this bench for a whole three minutes. Thought you had gotten cold feet.” His lips turn up into a grin that makes his eyes shine out from beneath his loose fringe. The blue beanie he’s wearing makes him look a lot different from the sleek outfit he was wearing when they first met. Harry can’t believe that was only about a week ago. He can’t believe they’re going to Italy right now.

“Our tickets have been reserved for us.” Harry’s eyes dart to the large clock over at check-in. “We better get going if we’re going to make this flight.”

Louis grabs his bicep to stop him from speeding over to get their tickets. “Hey, hey, hey slow down!” he laughs. “This is supposed to be _fun_ , remember? You looked more stressed than my sister did when I left her in charge.”

Harry frowns at the clock again. They’re going to miss this flight if they don’t hurry. “But-” Louis places his entire hand over Harry’s mouth to stop him from talking. When he’s sure Harry is going to calm down he lets his hand fall away.

“Repeat after me... We will get there when we get there.” Harry wants to do as Louis says, but his eyes keep tracking the minute hand of the clock. Louis waves his hand in front of his face to gain his attention. “Say it, Harry.”

“We’ll get there when we get there,” Harry says quickly with his feet turned in the direction of the check-in desk. Louis notes his anxious expression and looks like he’s about to make Harry say it again, but he lets him go.

They get their tickets at check-in and Harry taps his foot all the way through security. He only relaxes once they reach their terminal. Harry drops down into the seat nearest the entrance and lets out the breath he feels like he has been holding since they arrived. They make it with ten minutes to spare.

Each time Louis glances at him he has amusement written all over his face. When they board the plane Harry sighs with relief. Louis chuckles to himself as he settles in next to the window. “Finally relaxed, then? Took you long enough.”

“Shut up,” Harry grins. “I’m not used to doing stuff like this. I was in bed when you mentioned this grand plan.”

“See. I was dying at work with hardly any guests and you were being boring in your mansion.” Louis tugs at one Harry’s loose curls and watches it spring back into place. “We _need_ this trip, Curly. You should be thanking me.”

Harry rolls his eyes at Louis’ self-satisfied smirk. “Thank you for making us run through the airport Home Alone style.”

“You are _quite_ welcome, Harold.”

*

They land a couple of hours later and Harry can feel a sense of calm settling over him. They take a motorboat out of the airport to a hotel Louis picked at random from his phone. The city is beautiful and more magical than Harry remembers from all those years ago as the old buildings and street lamps pass by in a blur. He smiles when Louis asks their driver to stop a few minutes away from their destination and suggests that they walk the rest of the way.

They stop off at an old dock and sling their bags over their shoulders as they walk along the canal. The air is warm against Harry’s skin and he has a clear view of the moon overhead. Louis looks just as content. He nudges at Harry’s side just as they’re coming over a small bridge.

“I think this is us.”

Harry looks ahead to the light colored building that Louis is pointing at. It’s huge and definitely one of the nicer buildings they’ve passed.

They step into the entranceway and Harry causes people to look their way when he barks out a loud laugh at the sight of the place. The lobby is massive and trimmed in gold with columns leading up to the tall cathedral-style ceiling. Louis’ mouth hangs open as he leans his head back to see the light pouring from the crystal chandeliers above. Leave it to Louis to randomly choose one of the most expensive hotels in the fucking city.

“Are you seeing this?! This place is fucking amazing!”

Louis’ eyes are filled with wonder as he floats through the lobby. He stops to smell an impressive display of white roses at the foot of the staircase. Harry is so occupied watching Louis that he doesn’t notice one of the women from the front desk walking over to greet them.

Louis asks a million questions about the hotel like he’s planning to gut the interior of The Tomlinson House to copy it. She smiles and answers his questions while checking for available rooms on the computer in front of her.

Everything had been going great until she asks if they need one or two and Louis suddenly falls silent beside him.

She politely clears her throat and asks again, but when Harry looks over at Louis he is conveniently engrossed with his phone. Harry stares at the woman behind the desk, unsure of what to say. He hands her his card and tells her they’ll take whatever is available at such short notice, but she doesn’t give him the quick-fix answer he was looking for.

“Both options are available,” she smiles.

Louis is still staring at his phone like it’s the most interesting thing he has ever seen. He has given no indication of hearing what’s going on around him, which is just perfect, for _Louis_.

“Oh. That’s…wonderful.” Harry blinks down at the marble countertop before him.

He assumed this was a no brainer. Like, how difficult of a decision could this possibly be? _They get separate rooms_ , but Louis didn’t say separate rooms did he? Actually, Louis said nothing at all and is now pretending to be mute which is strange considering Louis has never had an issue with spending Harry’s money before. It’s stupid for Harry to be so conflicted about something so trivial. He and Louis could _totally_ share a room, right? It’s not like it’s unheard of for two adults to share. Hell, he and Niall share all the time. Louis isn’t exactly his _best friend_ like Niall happens to be, but still, sharing with Louis has to be somewhat appropriate.

“A single is fine,” he finally decides, feeling proud of himself for not letting Louis see him sweat.

She smiles as she gets to work booking their room and grabbing their keys. She gives one to each of them and Harry glances over to find the smallest hint of a grin on Louis’ lips. Harry would be annoyed with him if he weren’t so secretly pleased that they get to spend their nights together as well.

The extravagance from the entranceway continues as he and Louis climb the winding staircase to their floor. They wear similar expressions of astonishment when Louis opens the door to their room and find that it’s more like a tiny flat in reality. Louis walks through the first sitting area and passes the fireplace near a pair of French doors that lead out to the balcony overlooking the water. He comes to another sitting room just outside of the bedroom and drops his duffel bag at his feet before running to flop onto the plush duvet covering the king sized bed. He lets out a laugh so filled with joy that Harry can’t help but laugh too.

“I want to live and die on this duvet, it’s so fucking soft! Harry, get over here and feel this thing!” he demands.

Harry drops his bag at the foot of the bed and gingerly sits down to test it out. “Oh wow. Yeah, it is soft. It feels really-” His words get cut off when Louis forces him to lie back by yanking at his shoulders. “Oh!” Harry chuckles. “Okay, it definitely feels better down here.”

“Of course it does,” Louis says like it should be obvious.

“You’ll have a great night’s sleep on it. I think I’m going to take that comfy looking sofa out in the-” Louis doesn’t even let him finish.

“Oh no, you’re not. You are sleeping on this cloud of a bed with me and I won’t take no for an answer.” Harry goes to protest, but Louis tuts at him before he can even draw the breath to do so. “None of that. Just nod your head yes, come on Harry,” he grins, “Nod your head… accept it…” It takes less than a minute for Harry to give in to the pressure and do as he’s told. Louis’ smile explodes across his face when he gets his way, and honestly, Harry is all too happy to oblige.

Every place they call is closed by the time they’ve taken turns showering and their stomachs are rumbling from missing dinner. Harry suggests that they stay in tonight and order room service. Louis’ eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“Have you ever ordered room service before?” Harry laughs when Louis starts enthusiastically flipping through a menu he found in the bedside table.

“Nope, but I’m about to.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’re going to order everything they have aren’t you?”

Louis smiles at him when he pokes him in the side. “Oh Harry, you know me so well already.”

Louis doesn’t quite order _everything_ , but he gets pretty damn close. He’s face down in the duvet once he has successfully stuffed himself full. Harry uses his big toe to poke at his side when he hasn’t moved in a while.

“Are you still alive over there?”

Louis groans a muffled, “Unfortunately.”

Harry laughs because he ate his fill too, but thankfully he knew when to quit.

“Mmm,” Harry hums, “It’s too bad you’re sleepy. I think now could’ve been a good time for a spontaneous boat ride. I’ve heard the gondolas are _disgustingly_ expensive at night…” he smirks.

Louis flips onto his side to peek over at him with excited eyes. “Let’s do it!”

The moon is still bright above them as they float through the smaller canals of the city. The largest and most popular one, The Grand Canal, was too crowded with other tourists for their taste, so they opted for a quieter experience marveling at the beautiful architecture surrounding them on either side. The city is almost magical at night and so serene that Harry often finds himself grinning at nothing from how beautiful it is.

His chest warms when he chances a look at Louis sitting across from him and he’s already smiling back at him.

“What would you be doing right now if you were at home?”

Harry cranes his neck to watch a particularly tall building pass by. “I wouldn’t be doing anything this cool, that’s for sure. I’d probably be in bed drowning in a sea of Netflix or something.”

Louis grins back at him. “Same.”

“You’d probably be getting woken up by some random guest who needs more pillows or can’t connect to the wifi,” Harry teases.

“Yeah,” Louis sighs. “Or by some curly-headed loser creeping around my door while he looks for ghosts.”

Louis cackles out of nowhere and their gondola driver frowns from how loud it is. Harry fondly nudges at his calf with the toe of his shoe when the idiot won’t stop giggling. Louis apologizes for disturbing the peace of the evening, but looking at their driver’s puzzled expression only causes him to laugh harder.

His amusement fades down to a few breathless chuckles when he sees the way Harry is trying and failing miserably to sulk over being laughed at. “Oh, come on, Curly,” he grins. “You like being teased by me. It’s why you let me boss you around and why you even agreed to this trip.”

He’s one hundred percent accurate. Harry does like the attention, but Harry won’t let him know that. He’d never hear the bloody end of it, so he continues pretending like Louis isn’t the most charming bastard he’s ever met by changing the subject.

“Have you always been this annoying?”

“Yep. Since the day I was born.” Louis winks after his dumb answer and it makes Harry smile for the rest of the night.

Harry had expected for things to feel awkward from them having to share a room, but things feel just as easy as the rest of their night has been when Louis shrugs out of his coat and leaves his shoes by the door. He leaves his shirt and bottoms on when he goes to brush his teeth, so Harry does the same even though he never sleeps in a shirt.

They rang housekeeping to get rid of the dishes and leftover food before leaving for the gondolas. The bed has been remade and the sheets turned down, so the only thing left for them to do is climb in.

“I’ll try to stay on my side. I’m not used to sharing so just push me off if I get too close for you,” Louis warns as he’s punching his pillow into shape.

“I don’t think space will really be an issue. This bed is huge,” Harry remarks. He wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to Louis intruding on his personal space, however the great distance between them suggests that Louis probably would. He’ll have to mind himself tonight, though it’ll be difficult considering Harry usually wakes up with his limbs splayed out from his body like a starfish. He’ll just have to make sure he stays on his side.

Harry had been dreaming about boat rides and moonlight until a sharp sting cuts across his cheek and startles him out of it.

He blinks himself awake to find a rogue hand pressed right against his cheek as Louis lightly snores on his back with his arm thrown away from his body. Harry gently removes his hand and places his arm down by his side where it belongs. He loosens his hold on Louis’ hand to let him go, but he isn’t quick enough before Louis instinctively tangles their fingers together and turns over onto his side to bring Harry along with him.

He’s hardly breathing where he’s now pressed against Louis’ back. He tries to wiggle his arm free, but Louis is clutching at it in his sleep and making it nearly impossible for Harry to move without waking him.

“Lou… wake up.”

He gets a wretched sounding groan in response. “What for?” Louis whines.

“Uh…” Harry wiggles his fingers in an effort to avoid telling Louis that he has essentially forced Harry onto his side of the bed. He clears his throat when Louis doesn’t get the hint. “We’re kind of uh… _close_ right now.”

Louis sighs long and deep. Harry can feel his ribcage expand where he’s practically draped over him. “So what? Shhh. Go back to sleep,” Louis mutters, already drifting back off. Harry tries to pull his arm away again but Louis’ grip only tightens. A few seconds of silence pass before Louis’ deep steady breaths resume and he’s gone.

Harry adjusts his body so that they’re spooning, but he makes sure their hips aren’t quite aligned from fear of his body responding in a way that he simply cannot deal with right now. He tucks his free arm under his head and snuggles down next to Louis with the scent of Louis’ shampoo filling his nose.

He knows Louis trapping him here was just an accident, but it’s not one that Harry is going to complain about.

*

“What? Are you saying that you and Niall have never snuggled a bit? You’ve been friends since you were kids,” Louis points out with a skeptical raise of his eyebrow.

Harry had chosen to not speak of last night to spare them any awkwardness, but Louis ended up bringing it up himself during their late five-star breakfast overlooking the water.

“No. Niall sleeps like a koala bear. Of course we’ve woken up closer than we intended...”

“Then what’s the problem? I gave you your arm back didn’t I?”

Harry smiles thinking about the tangled mess he and Louis woke up in when they had a whole king sized bed to share. He had to talk himself down from doing something incredibly stupid when he opened his eyes and the nape of Louis’ golden neck was mere centimeters from his mouth. He’s still claiming temporary insanity from that little lapse in judgement.

Yeah, he and Niall sleep close sometimes because Niall is a known bed hog, but Louis didn’t push into his space last night; he was the one who lured Harry into him and kept him there like an extra layer of skin. What’s worrying is that Harry didn’t mind one bit. He actually woke up delighted.

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t mind taking the sofa tonight if you want the bed to yourself. I want you to sleep well,” Harry explains for a second time. He might not have minded waking up next to Louis that way, but he’s sure Louis probably feels differently about it even if he isn’t saying it out loud to spare Harry’s feelings.

Louis rolls his eyes like Harry’s suggestion is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard as he shoves a forkful of food into his mouth. “Whatever you say, Harry.” He doesn’t miss the “ _Idiot_ ,” Louis mumbles into his tea, but Harry pretends not to hear it.

*

He and Louis spend the next three days in Venice, sampling everything that the city has to offer from strolling through the markets to visiting the Palazzo Ducale and the famous Basilica. Each sunny afternoon is more exhilarating than the next with Louis by his side, gripping onto Harry’s arm to guide him wherever he wants, or Louis smiling so warmly towards him that Harry swears he feels butterflies awakening in the pit of his stomach. They spend all day together in this city of romance and enchantment, but when night falls Harry has to come back to reality; the place where he can’t seem to control himself or his dick at night, so he separates himself from Louis and chooses to sleep on the couch for the sake of their friendship.

Each night has been exactly the same except for that first evening back when Harry had himself fooled into believing that he liked Louis as nothing more than a mate or a companion and could sleep next to him without feeling weird about it. The more time Harry spent with him though, the more he realized that he never looks at Niall or any of his other friends the way he looks at Louis, and even though he’s a right pain in the arse sometimes, Harry can’t help but find him incredible.

They turn in early on their last night in Venice after a long afternoon of Gondola driving lessons out on the water. Harry’s shoulders and biceps ache as he fidgets around on the plush sofa outside of the bedroom. His back has been bothering him these last few days, but he has worked hard to hide it. He huffs and flips onto his back in a final attempt to get comfortable. When he opens his eyes Louis is there standing over him with a knowing expression.

“If your arms feel anything like mine after today, then this couch must feel awful, Haz.”

Harry shakes his head much too quickly. “No, it’s fine. I’m really comfortable here.” He shuffles further down into the cushions to avoid the flat look Louis is giving him.

“Look, there’s no point in this. Get in the damn bed. I’ll even make us a pillow barrier since you don’t want me near you.”

Louis says it like he doesn’t care at all that Harry doesn’t want to share a bed with him, but his eyes display a bit of hurt from being so openly rejected. Harry usually does whatever he wants without question; it’s no wonder Louis is so persistent in knowing why Harry doesn’t want to be around him at night.

Louis offers his hand to help him up, but Harry’s reluctant to take it with him looking as soft and determined as he does in his long sleeves and joggers. Louis wears him down after a while with his innocent puppy eyes, and just like that, Harry is following him to the bedroom even though he knows better.

They slide in on their respective sides and Harry immediately shoves a thick pillow between them.

“Jesus. I said I was going to stay on my side, Haz. Do you think I’m going to straddle you as soon as your back hits the bed or something?” he asks with a furrowed brow.

Harry flushes red in the dark room, because he’s more likely to be the one straddling someone in this situation. It may be stupid and completely unlikely to happen again, but Harry knows he would read too much into it if Louis happened to rope him in a second time.

“It’s not you, Louis. I just think it’s better this way so that it’s not confusing for anybody.”

“So what’s not confusing?” Louis sits up on one elbow so Harry can see the baffled expression on his face. “Confusing for who? You? Because I’m not confused _at all_.”

“Yes, for me, alright?” Harry sighs. He wishes Louis would just let it go. “I like us the way we are and I don’t want to like, take advantage of our friendship or whatever just because we happen to be sharing a room together.”

Louis laughs at him like always, but it’s more out of exasperation than anything else. “And who says you’re taking advantage? Maybe I _like_ being in bed with you,” Louis scoffs. “You ever think of that?”

Harry blinks at him trying to figure out what he’s playing at. Louis likes to tease him all the time. He wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be one of those instances, but there’s something about his eyes that suggests that he isn’t joking around this time.

“ _Do_ you like being in bed with me?”

Louis’ reaches for the pillow separating them and tosses it across the room as a response. He scoots over a couple of inches towards the middle of the bed and settles down into the mattress. He waits for Harry to get the hint and lie down next to him. They’re not touching where they’re facing each other, but their bodies are close enough that Harry can see the blue of his eyes from the moonlight pouring in.

“Let _me_ be the judge of whether or not I’m being taken advantage of, yeah?”

He takes one of Harry’s hands in his before turning his back and forcing Harry’s arm over him just like last time.

They settle into it, but Harry backs his hips away from him and tells himself it’s nothing to hold Louis this way even though the way his heart is fluttering in his chest says otherwise. He takes a deep breath to calm himself and just when he gets a handle on his emotions Louis shifts around in his hold and presses his back flush against Harry’s front.

“Goodnight,” he says, and Harry can hear the stupidly smug grin in his voice. 

He tries to sound as unaffected as possible when he whispers a quiet, “Goodnight,” even though his pulse is racing so quickly that he’ll probably _never_ get to sleep at this rate.

*

They take their time the next morning, stuffing their belongings back into their bags as they’re preparing to leave. Waking up with Louis’ skin melded into his own wasn’t as scary as last time. There was still a fleeting moment when Harry was just waking up where he wanted to brush his lips over Louis’ skin and breathe him in, but he was much better equipped to deal with those urges this time around and avoided it.

They order room service and have breakfast out on their private balcony like some sort of a scene from a painting. The previous night is all Harry can think about, but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

They bid farewell to Venice and make it to the airport on time, which is a miracle since Louis suddenly wanted to stop and take pictures of literally everything. He hadn’t snapped a single photograph the entire trip, but he makes up for lost time by taking as many as he can on their way out of the city.

It’s not until they’re both sitting on the plane (with Louis by the window of course) that Louis starts fidgeting around in his seat to dig into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls the list out from his wallet and searches through his carry-on for something to write with. He uses the back of the seat in front of them to write on as he locates Venice at the top of the page and draws a single black line through the middle of it.

All they’ve done is go on a random holiday together, but Harry can’t remember the last time he felt this accomplished.

“One down!” Louis happily broadcasts to Harry and anybody else within hearing distance. He refolds the paper along its creases, but rather than shoving it back into his wallet he places it in Harry’s hand.

“Oh. I figured you’d keep it,” Harry says, trying to give it back, but Louis refuses to accept it again.

“I think you should be the keeper of the list. That way I’ll have an excuse to ring you up and annoy you when I forget what we wrote or I think of something cool to add.”

He hopes Louis will ring him up for more than that. He also wants Louis to call just because he wants to.

“I’ll keep this safe,” he promises, already thinking of a good place in his house to keep it as he tucks their list into his pocket. He and Louis share a private look before Louis sinks back into his seat again to gaze out of his window.

“And skydiving _better_ still be there next time I see you,” Louis warns, cutting his eyes over at him. Harry snorts at how serious he sounds about it. “I mean it, Haz. If you scratch it off or write over it, I’ll add something even worse.”

Harry is pretty certain that there’s nothing worse that Louis could possibly think of, but he doesn’t want to test that theory any time soon.

Each spontaneous experience on their list is an experience that Harry gets to have with Louis; a promise. He wouldn’t dream of erasing one of those even if it does happen to involve Harry free falling from twelve thousand feet in the air.

They part after landing at the airport with a tight embrace that leaves Harry a bit breathless from the way Louis tucked the side of his face into his the hollow of his neck. Goosebumps rise where he whispers a quiet _thank you_ and Harry tries not to feel too sentimental about it.

Harry feels over the bit of raised skin as Anthony drives him home. It’s weird being in a car again after going for so long without even seeing one. It’s even weirder not having Louis there beside him.

He wishes he had been more like Louis and taken pictures to preserve some of the memories they got to share. Harry smiles when he recalls the one reminder he does have of their time together. The one Louis insisted that he keep. He feels better already when he pulls the list out of his pocket. He runs his fingers over the grooves in the paper left by the pen and he can hardly wait for the day Louis chooses to call him up again and forces him to live in the moment.

*

Louis texts him on and off throughout the next few weeks. He even fits in a phone call or two when he’s being particularly long-winded about something funny that happened at The Tomlinson House. Those are Harry’s favorite moments, the times where the two of them chat and catch up like they’ve known each other for years.

Having Louis over the phone in small bursts is alright, but Harry misses seeing him in person too.

In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘ _Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’_ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it _._ He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.

Around week five Harry gets tired of waiting for Louis to miss him, so he takes matters into his own anxious hands.

‘ _Feeling spontaneous?_ ’

His stomach turns when Louis doesn’t immediately reply back like he expected. For a moment, Harry thinks that he has severely overestimated Louis’ fondness for him. He has to endure nearly two whole minutes of silence before Louis responds with, ‘ _YES!!_ _Finally! I thought you’d never ask!’_


	4. Chapter 4

Niall calls just as Harry is doing another lap around his bedroom to make sure he has everything he needs. He answers with a distracted, “Hey, Ni,” but he doesn’t get to say much else when Niall scoffs into the receiver.

“Don’t. I’m mad at you,” he interjects. Harry stops dead at the foot of his bed where he was just throwing the last of his toiletries into his suitcase. Niall doesn’t really sound mad, but he does sound annoyed. “So I just texted my mate Louis and asked what time he’s coming over later on tonight. We’ve had plans all week to hang out, and do you know what he said to me?”

Harry grins to himself knowing full well what Louis probably said. “…No, Ni. What did Louis say?”

“He said he can’t come hang out anymore because he’s going on a holiday. And so I go, ‘What the hell?  What holiday? With who?’ And do you know what he said?” Niall asks sounding more and more hysterical. “Go ahead and guess what Louis Tomlinson said!”

“Er…he probably said he’s going to Tokyo, Japan… with me?” he winces.

“Exactly!” Niall shouts. “Harry, what the fuck? Are you mad at me? Did I do something? You two didn’t invite me to Italy and now I don’t get to go to fucking _Japan_?!” Harry hadn’t really given much thought to how Niall would deal with his two friends becoming mates, but he sounds pitiful and hurt on the other end of the phone. Harry didn’t leave Niall out intentionally. He feels awful for making Niall think otherwise.

“Ni, I swear it’s not like that. I’m not mad at you or anything. Louis and I just got on really well when we met and we talked about it and decided to do some traveling together.”

Niall doesn’t sound too convinced that this is all nothing. He sighs into the phone like his feelings are still hurt.

“Look, Haz, I know things have changed a bit since Camille and the engagement. I know we’re getting older. I’m getting married and we don’t have as much time to hang out as we used to, but like, we’re still _friends_ aren’t we?”

Harry sinks down onto his bed with a sigh. Niall has been his best mate since he was a child. Of course they’re still friends. They always will be.

“Ni. You are the very best friend I have ever had,” Harry tells him honestly. Niall sighs into the phone like maybe he’s feeling a better.

“Really?”

“Really,” Harry assures him. “I love you and I wouldn’t trade you for anything or anyone in this world.”

“Yeah, except Louis Tomlinson you mean,” he mutters darkly.

Harry checks the clock and feels his heart rate spike from how much valuable time he’s wasting. He needs to be on his way to the airport as soon as possible and Niall wants to have a heart to heart about nothing.

“Okay, Ni, I’m sorry for not inviting you. I know you and Camille are busy with wedding stuff, but you and I can take a trip in a couple of weeks, yeah? Just the two of us like old times. We can go anywhere you like.”

It’s terrible to bribe people, Harry knows that, but he really is crunched for time right now and Niall’s pouting isn’t helping.  Lucky for him, Niall can be talked into almost anything for a price.

“Fine then,” Niall relents. “Go ahead and go on your bloody holiday to stupid Tokyo. I hate crowds and sushi anyway.” Harry rolls his eyes. Niall loves sushi and he loves being the center of every crowd, but Harry won’t point that out if it gets him off the phone. “Go. Have fun. And be safe,” he adds, “I want the two of you back in one piece even if you both are annoying as hell.”

“Will do!” Harry promises. “I’ll see you when I get back,” he says right before finally hanging up and resuming his packing.

He could’ve invited Niall along to Japan. It could’ve saved him a lot of trouble, but something about his and Louis’ list feels sacred as silly as that is, and it just doesn’t feel right to let other people in on it, even Niall. He just hopes Niall and everyone else will be able to understand that.

*

Taking off to Japan on a whim isn’t as easy as it had been to go to Italy at a moment’s notice. For one thing it’s much further and much more difficult to find a good flight at such short notice. Harry pretends like it’s all just a lucky coincidence, but the first class cabin seats on the plane were harder to get than he had expected and took quite a bit of preparation on his part to gain. He’s sure he owes Phillip nearly a hundred favors by now, but the look of amazement on Louis’ face is worth it when they step on board.

It’s a thirteen hour flight, but it is made so much more comfortable by the plush armchair seats that Louis has basically taken up residence in. They sleep through most of their airtime, but they also use some of it to do some editing to their list. They add new places and adventures that have been in the back of their minds since their last trip and even take off some of the ones that no longer hold any interest, and even though Harry begs, no amount of pouty lips or wide innocent eyes can persuade Louis that planes are for riding in and not jumping out of, so unfortunately skydiving remains on the list, taunting Harry in its large, bold font.

Tokyo is like nothing either Harry or Louis have ever experienced. Harry didn’t take pictures in Venice, but he makes sure to do so this time. Nighttime in the Venetian city was magical in its own way with its historic palaces that tower over the water and the little pockets of pale light from the street lamps dotting the canals, but Tokyo is alive and illuminated like something out of a fantasy. There’s something new and exciting no matter where they look, and they find that it doesn’t take much effort to be spontaneous in a place where it seems like everything is happening at once.

“We can’t let Niall know how awesome this place is! He’d never forgive us!” Louis yells as he searches through their hotel room. “There’s a phone beside the toilet!” Louis yells from inside the bathroom. Harry laughs where he’s lying on the bed just like he has each time Louis finds something new to marvel at. “Oh my God, have you seen the showerhead in here?!”

Harry giggles into the feather pillow he sunk into the moment they arrived. “No, what’s it like?”

“Like a fucking thunderstorm I hope. God, I can’t wait to be naked in there.” He flops down next to Harry, overwhelmed from too much stimulation. He moans when his back hits the mattress of yet another glorious bed. “I am _never_ going home,” he swears with a dreamy expression that Harry simply can’t look away from.

Harry spent more on the tickets and their room than he has on any other single purchase he has made this year. He can already hear Phillip’s speech about wise spending, but he doesn’t care one bit when Louis looks so incredibly happy.

*

Tokyo has a vibe all its own as far as attractions and sights go. It takes three days for him and Louis to get through a seemingly endless list of touristy things to do, but of course they save the best for last.

“We fly halfway around the world to Japan on a thirteen hour flight and _this_ is what you want to do on our last day?” Louis looks at him, unimpressed with his arms folded over his chest.

Harry nods eagerly as he bites down onto his excited grin. “Lou pleeeease?”

“But it’s so- it’s so _predictable._ We’re supposed to be being impulsive and free! There is literally nothing less spontaneous than _Disneyland_.”

Harry grabs Louis’ hands in his and jumps up and down on the bed, partly to be annoying and partly because he really is that excited about it. “Oh come on, Lou! Please? _Pleeeease?_ Please?!”

Louis’ fighting the grin trying to take over his face as Harry wears him down. “But everyone’s so bloody jolly all the time. It’s like they wake up cheerful and _never_ stop smiling. Don’t you want to go to the zoo instead?” he tries.

Harry doesn’t want to go to the fucking zoo. He wants to see Minnie Mouse and he knows Louis secretly wants to as well. He’s just being stubborn. Harry is half tempted to get down on his knees and beg, but personally he doesn’t think his brain would be able to handle a glorious visual such as that. He doesn’t do it for the sake of his sanity, but Louis still relents when Harry’s obnoxious pleading reaches its peak.

“ _Fiiiiine_. Let’s go grin until our cheeks hurt and stand in line for fifty years for rides that last three minutes.” Louis makes an attempt to roll his eyes, but it just comes off fond when Harry cheers and victoriously falls back onto the bed.

They spend the entire day in the theme park eating overpriced nonsense and waiting in lines that stretch farther than they can see, but it’s hands down one of the best days they’ve had since arriving. They stumble into their hotel room, giddy and ridiculous as they drop several souvenir bags to the floor. Harry’s first order of business is to find the toilet since he’s been holding it for the last hour.

When he steps out of the bathroom he finds Louis still wearing his mouse ear hat, one that’s really meant for children, but he insisted on having regardless. He’s sat against the headboard with a small grin on his lips as he watches Harry enter the room.

For the past couple of days Harry has been collecting these looks that Louis seems to be giving him that make him wonder what Louis is thinking. He looked at him like that on their first morning in Tokyo when Harry blinked himself awake to find Louis sneaking a picture of his bedhead hair and the drool dried to his chin. Harry noticed it again on day three when they went shopping in Harajuku and Harry stepped out of a dressing room wearing the loudest outfit he could find just to get a laugh out of him. He had expected Louis to tease and torment him like always, but the amusement in his eyes faded at once leaving behind a tender warmth that Harry had never seen. It’s the same look he’s wearing now, with eyes so piercing that it makes Harry feel self-conscious like something’s on his face or in his teeth.

“What is it, Lou?” He checks the zipper on his jeans thinking maybe it’s open. The action only makes Louis grin harder. “What?” he laughs, and it’s like the sound bring Louis out of whatever daydream he was having.

“Oh…it’s nothing,” he grins to himself. “…I was just, uh thinking over our options of things to do tonight to say farewell to Tokyo.”

Harry stretches out across the foot of the bed. “I thought we agreed on going out and sleeping off the hangover on the plane?” They talked about it all last night. He can’t believe Louis has forgotten so quickly.

“Oh, right,” he shakes his head. “I couldn’t remember if it we had agreed on it or not. We’re going to have so much fun.” Harry knows they’re going to have a blast.

Heavy rain clouds had been looming for most of the evening and it starts pouring as soon as they step out of the hotel. The nightclub they find a few blocks away had sounded pretty promising, but unlike London during a good storm the crowds have cleared out and the whole vibe of the night loses the energy that had everyone’s eyes sparkling earlier in the evening. He and Louis had grand plans to get completely wasted in Japan, so Harry is beyond grateful when Louis suggests that they head back to the hotel and drink everything in their minibar in the privacy of their five-star room.

“Let’s play two truths and a lie.”

Harry turns his face into the pillow he’s cradling and lets out a miserable groan. He _hates_ playing games like this, especially when there’s alcohol involved.

“I’m a terrible liar! Can’t we play something nicer?”

Louis pretends to contemplate Harry’s request. “Nope! We’re playing two truths. Rules are you drink if someone guesses your lie. The other person drinks if they choose a truth.” Harry frowns at his colorful glass of tequila and whatever else Louis mixed in there.

“But I’ll always end up drinking because I’m so bad at lying,” he whines.

“Well,” Louis claps, “…I guess you better get really good at it because we’re playing! I’ll go first!” he volunteers. Harry watches his face light up as he thinks of unique things about himself to lie about. Louis is the master of bullshitting. Harry may as well chug his tequila now.

“Okay! I have four younger siblings, I played footie in uni, and I can play the piano!” he says with his eyes alight with excitement. Every word that comes out of Louis’ mouth sounds plausible and convincing. Harry throws his head back and just chooses one for the hell of it. It’s not like he’s going to win this game any way.

“You can’t play the piano?”

“WRONG! I can play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Hot Cross Buns, and a song by The Fray! DRINK!” he shouts with glee.

Harry pouts as he takes two big sips of the bitter concoction in his glass. “Well if that’s true then what was the lie?” Harry demands.

“I have _six_ younger siblings, not four! HA!” Harry rolls his eyes at him. That was a cheap fucking lie. It was half of a lie really, but Harry doesn’t say anything. “Alright, Hazza, it’s your turn. Lie to me!”

Harry takes a deep breath and makes sure to keep eye contact with Louis the entire time he’s speaking. “I love scary movies... I used to be in a band….and I love broccoli.”

Louis stares him down like he’s trying to solve a murder mystery instead of whether or not he loves vegetables. “You love scary movies is the lie! Driiiink!”

“Damn it!” He groans. “How’d you know?!” Harry really is baffled. He didn’t even blink while he was speaking and said his lie first. Those are like, the basic rules of playing this game well.

Louis rolls over onto his side to laugh at him. “I’ve seen you eat a billion salads and almost every single one of them has had broccoli in it, I’ve heard you singing in the shower and your voice is amazing, so I can see that one being true, but you literally held my hand the entire time through the haunted mansion ride today. There’s _no way_ you love scary movies!”

Alright, so Louis is observant as fuck. Brilliant. One more reason why he’s going to lose this game and die from alcohol poisoning. Louis sits back with a smug grin and gestures for Harry to turn up his glass. He does so with a sullen expression.

They play until it’s past midnight with the truths and lies getting stranger with each round Harry loses. They take a liquor break once he has drained two full glasses to Louis’ one, but Louis makes them continue playing without it. Weirdly enough, the questions become a lot more personal and candid once the alcohol is gone. It becomes more of them just talking and sharing their thoughts, which Harry actually prefers.

“Your dad left your family when you were two years old?” Harry guesses, hoping that’s the lie because it sounds like an awful truth for a little boy to grow up with. Louis gives him a small shake of his head.

Now would usually be the time Harry would have to drink, but thankfully that part of the game is over.

“Nah, that’s actually true. The lie was that I want to sell the Tomlinson House. I don’t really…I used to say that I did, but it really has grown on me and I love it.” Harry gives him a small grin and a squeeze of his shoulder in return for his honesty. There were lots of things he didn’t know about Louis until tonight. He’s glad Louis trusts him enough to share these details about his life even if they aren’t very pretty.

“Well, go on, Haz. Don’t let me hog all the miserable stuff,” he tries to joke.

Harry scrunches his eyebrows together. He doesn’t have any sad life confessions. The saddest thing going on in his life at the moment is his best friend growing up without him and his own blatant denial of his feelings for the boy currently smiling at him. His eyes trail the beautiful shape of Louis’ face and the way his eyes seem to be always shimmering even when they’re not in the sun. He could admit a million things that he finds wonderful about Louis, and not a single one of them would be a lie.

Harry shrugs when he’s having trouble thinking of something to say. “I don’t know Lou… I’m jealous of Niall settling down, I want something I can’t have…” Harry doesn’t even have the energy to think up a lie to go with his truths.

He offers Louis an apologetic grin for being so shit at this game, but Louis just watches him with knowing eyes and that fond look he has become so accustomed to giving. It makes a cool chill run down Harry’s arms to have Louis’ full attention this way.

“We should uh, probably get to bed soon,” he suggests after he looks away from Louis but he can still feel his eyes on him. Thankfully Louis agrees after a long pause. Harry starts putting away the leftover alcohol and lets Louis head to the bathroom first.

When he’s out, Harry is thankful for the few minutes of privacy he gets when he shuts the door to brush his teeth and pee. He beats himself up for turning their innocent game sour. He doesn’t know why he can’t be happy with what he has instead of wanting more.

When he steps back into the room Louis is already under the covers. Harry climbs in behind him and smiles when Louis reaches for his arm and pulls it over him.

They lie still in the quiet for so long that Harry thinks Louis has drifted off. He’s holding Louis as tight as ever, and even though their game has been over for a while now, Harry can’t stop thinking about it. His eyes open in surprise when he feels Louis turn over in his arms until they’re face to face. There’s something different about the way Louis is looking at him. Something more penetrating than any other look Louis has fixed him with in the past.

“You want something you can’t have,” he whispers, and Harry swears his heart stops beating or that he must be dreaming when Louis places a hand on his cheek. “That’s the lie.” The air in his lungs evaporates and leaves his chest burning hot when Louis’ lips meet his in the quiet. It’s such a surreal moment that Louis pulls away too quickly for Harry to process that he just kissed him. He blinks up at Harry with apprehension like he’s unsure of what he’s just done, like maybe this time he really has gone too far. He couldn’t be more mistaken.

“Why’d you stop?”

Louis grows quiet and small next to him. “I don’t know… you weren’t kissing me back so I figured-”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow like Louis is speaking another language. “You didn’t give me time to! I think I was in shock,” he laughs even though nothing’s funny. He’s high on the fact that Louis Tomlinson just fucking _kissed_ him. “Do it again, please. This time I’ll be ready,” he promises with his eyes already locked on Louis’ lips as they move closer. When they meet in the middle Harry wastes no time backing his claim when he opens his mouth to him, his grip tightening around Louis’ body to pull him closer. Harry tries not to lose his shit, but the only thing he can think about is the fact that this is really happening, in real life, in Tokyo, Japan.

His stomach is alive and fluttering when Louis’ fists loosen from their grip on the front of his shirt. He gives Harry one last brush of his lips before curling up under his chin with a sigh. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” Louis confesses after the air slowly starts to return to Harry’s lungs.

Harry can sympathize because he has wanted to kiss Louis for much longer, but he didn’t know Louis felt the same way. He knows it’s now a moot point, because obviously Louis realized that Harry likes him as more than just a friend, but he’s still curious as to how exactly he found out. Harry thought he’d been doing so well with hiding his emotions.

“How’d you know?” he asks, quietly entangling their fingers together between their chests.

Louis tilts his head back to level Harry with a more familiar flat look. Something about Harry’s frown must be hilarious from the way Louis turns his head to snort into the pillow. “ _Really,_ Haz? You’re literally the worst liar I’ve ever seen. You’re also a horrible actor.” He laughs when Harry’s face sinks into an even deeper pout. He strokes his thumb down Harry’s cheek in a silent apology. “But I’m glad you wear your heart on your sleeve, Haz. If you were any good at hiding how you feel we’d probably still be pretending to be just friends.”

It takes Harry a moment to catch up to Louis’ words. _Pretending?_ It’s true that they haven’t known each other for very long, but Harry had assumed they were pretty good mates by now, what with them being international travel buddies and all. Louis smiles before leaning over to lightly kiss away any lingering doubts Harry might have. “I hate to break it to you, love, but we were never just friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the positive feedback :) I'll update again soon!


	5. Chapter 5

They touch down in London again and this time it’s obvious that something has changed when they linger in front of the airport. Harry skillfully keeps the conversation rolling to build up enough courage to step forward and kiss him, which is something that hasn’t happened since they were in bed together in Japan. The moment never felt quite right while they were rushing around to make their flight. They slept through most of their travel time, and in the moments that they were awake Harry was too nervous to follow through, because as beautiful, loud, and excitable as Louis is, he is also kind of intimidating in those same ways.

There’s a pause in their conversation when Louis hands him the list to keep until next time. Harry’s jetlagged brain can’t think of anything else to say to prolong their time together, so when he grabs the folded up piece of paper Harry also takes Louis’ hand in his. He steps forward with all the confidence he can muster and is rewarded when he feels Louis smiling against his lips as they kiss.

Harry accidentally tickles him when his fingertips brush against Louis’ chin. “Not yet,” Harry whines when Louis giggles and tries to pull back. Harry moves with him to keep their mouths connected, not wanting to miss a second of his warmth.

Louis laughs at his determination and blinks up at Harry with sleepy blue eyes. He looks exhausted from their trip and in need of a good nap in something other than an airplane. His hair is messy underneath a beanie with his cheeks tinged a soft pink from Harry staring at him so intently.

Harry thinks he should always look this way.

“I have to go.” Louis says the words though he doesn’t look like he means them with the way his eyes linger on Harry like he’s trying to memorize his face. He steps forward for a final kiss that he plants right to Harry’s cheek. “Thank you so much for everything, Haz. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Harry had the time of his life on this trip. Out of the two of them he should be the one saying thank you.

“No. Thank _you_ , Louis. I had an unbelievable time…See you soon.”

It feels like a real goodbye this time when Louis readjusts his bags on his shoulder. He has grown so used to Louis constantly being with him that the thought of not seeing him again until their next trip suddenly makes a heavy weight form in the pit of his stomach.

Honestly, how long is he supposed to wait? Until one of them decides it’s time to cross something else off of their list?

Harry calls out to him when he’s just a couple of yards away, and Louis turns with a knowing grin.

It makes Harry release the breath he was holding as Louis shakes his head at him like some impossible idiot that he can’t help but adore. Surprisingly he doesn’t even tease Harry for being so clingy after just spending the last week together. Harry hopes it’s because the feeling is mutual.

“You know, The Tomlinson House serves breakfast every morning at eight. If we hurry we can probably make it on time.”  

Harry has never been happier to crash a breakfast in his life, even if they did technically eat on the plane. Harry hurries to catch up with him regardless, thankful that he doesn’t have to leave Louis’ side just yet.

“I don’t know if you’ll like whatever my sister cooked,” Louis warns.

“Oh, I’m not picky. I’m sure whatever it is will be delicious,” Harry reassures him. Harry doesn’t care if they have burnt toast and spoiled milk so long as he gets some extra time with Louis.

*

It’s a couple of weeks later when Harry’s out with Niall at yet another apology lunch that his phone loudly vibrates against the table. Harry scrambles for it, sensing that this is finally the message he’s been waiting for all day.

‘ _So here I am minding my own business when I get these two MASSIVE boxes delivered to my door. I‘m thinking it’s the new light fixtures I ordered for the kitchen a few weeks ago, but I open them and guess what?! There’s like a MILLION boxes of Yorkshire in there with no note! And I was like, who the hell is crazy and rich enough to send me a lifetime supply of my favorite tea?’_

Harry stifles a giggle into his fist, a sound that immediately catches Niall’s attention as he rolls his eyes.

“Louis, right?” he guesses in a bored tone. “Of course it’s Louis. It has to be for you to look so bloody happy. What did he do this time besides breathe?”

Harry reluctantly puts his phone down to give his full attention to his best friend, but not before texting a quick message back.

_‘Hmmm. Strange... I know NOTHING about the five-hundred and fifty boxes of Yorkshire that were technically supposed to have been delivered this morning.’_

Harry bites down on his grin when Louis replies with a long string of thank you’s and tea cup emojis.

He finally meets Niall’s eyes again and it takes him a moment to remember what they were even talking about. “Sorry, Ni. What were you saying?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that you and Tommo could’ve at least warned me that the two of you were going to be permanently stuck up each other’s arses after you met.”

Harry had promised Niall a trip of his choosing for leaving him out of their travel plans. Surprisingly, Niall got all sentimental upon his return and claimed that Harry’s friendship and company were more than enough to satisfy him. Harry should’ve known there was some kind of catch to the deal.

He rolls his eyes at his friend. “Oh Ni, come on. We aren’t _that_ bad. We just get on really w-”

“Don’t start with that shit again,” Niall warns. “This is _way_ more than that. This is like,” Niall grimaces as he tries to come up with a word gross and strong enough to describe them. “ _Nauseating._ It’s like watching your parents snog in front of you or something.” Harry rolls his eyes again. So, he kind of likes Louis a lot. So what? “This all happened so fast that I can hardly even keep up!” Niall claims. “One minute you’re strangers and the next-”

Harry’s phone vibrates again, causing his smile to return when he snatches it up to read Louis’ new message. Niall is watching him with dead eyes once he and Louis have finished teasing each other over the random gift Harry woke up yesterday morning and decided that Louis must have.

“I can’t believe you went and got yourself a boyfriend without even telling me first. You and Tommo are two of the sneakiest bastards, I swear to God.”

Harry laughs at his friend, his smile brightening at the fact that Niall has just implied that they are in a relationship. “We haven’t really discussed it yet.”

Niall snorts at Harry’s answer like it’s preposterous. “Well I asked him the other day and he gave me the same lovesick expression you’re wearing right now. It was gross. I had to look away.”

The thought of Louis feeling just as strongly about them as Harry does makes hope fan through his chest.

“Yeah,” Harry blushes, “But that doesn’t mean we’re _together_ though.”

The only sign of life on Niall’s face comes from the unimpressed eyebrow he raises at him. “Doesn’t it?”

*

Apparently it’s not enough that Harry has to get shit from Niall because very soon after, Phillip asks him into his office for a brief meeting. Ordinarily it wouldn’t be a big deal, but Harry has a feeling it’s going to be.

Phillip begins after laying out a scroll’s worth of statements and charges to his cards. Even Harry raises an eyebrow at the thickness of the pages.

“As you can see, there has been quite a lot of activity from a few of your accounts…”

“Oh. Has there? I hadn’t realized,” Harry says like this is the first he’s heard of any such activity. Lately, Louis merely has to glance at something before Harry is swiping his card.

Phillip gives him a stern look, the very same one Harry is certain he wears every day when they discuss things like this over the phone.

“Mr. Styles, you know there has been. Now, I’ve noted some things of importance…a few gifts for Mr. Horan and his fiancé, a small sum for your mother, another sum you sent to your sister… and a large and _growing_ amount used for yourself and a new acquaintance of yours, Mr. Louis Tomlinson.”

He and Phillip have a silent stare off that Harry ends up losing because he blinks. This is why he _hates_ meetings like these. He always feels like he’s in trouble for something. Harry sighs as he slumps further down into his seat.

“What are you trying to say, Phil? That I’m spending too much on Louis?”

“No, not at all. I just think we need to talk about _the way_ you’re spending money on Mr. Tomlinson. Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but it seems like the two of you have become extremely close. I’m not sure of the nature of your relationship or how serious it has become, but I think we need to discuss shifting some funds around to accommodate him if he’s going to stay in the picture.”

Harry honestly doesn’t know what to say to that. He has only known Louis a few months and already Phillip is trying to create accounts and safety nets for him.

“We uh- we haven’t discussed things yet. _Us_ ,” Harry clarifies when Phillip furrows his eyebrows at him and then down at the pages upon pages of purchases Harry has made in the last few months, most of them stemming from his relationship with Louis.

“Again, forgive me, but I can tell that this isn’t a relationship like the one between you and Mr. Horan or anyone else you’ve ever known and I think it’s safe to assume that Mr. Tomlinson isn’t going anywhere anytime soon…Do you remember our discussion during your annual review?” Harry nods much too quickly. How could he forget? “Well, we don’t have to make any decisions about anything today, but when the time comes we’ll need to talk about your estate and how it will change when things get more serious and you want to take the next step.” Harry nearly chokes on air when he takes a sharp breath.

“ _When_ the time comes? _When_ things get more serious? Don’t you mean _if_?” Harry asks, looking almost shell-shocked. Phillip is assuming a hell of a lot here. He’s talking about _marriage_ for fuck’s sake. Harry isn’t even sure if he’s _dating_ Louis at this point and Phillip is already factoring him into his life for good.

A small knowing grin tugs at the corners of Phillips lips as Harry internally panics in the seat across from him.

“No, Mr. Styles. _When_.”

*

They finally discuss it the next afternoon inside of Harry’s closet where Louis has been trying on every pair of jeans he can get his hands on. He stumbles over a pants leg that’s much too long for him when Harry finally gets the nerve to bring it up from where he’s watching on the lounge beside the mirror.

“Well I’m definitely not jetting off to Japan or snogging anyone else, if that’s what you’re asking,” Louis retorts as he regains his balance. “I meant it when I said we were never just friends.” And Harry knows Louis was serious about that. Harry fully agrees with the statement, but still. More than friends could mean lots of things.

“I know we’re not just friends, but that doesn’t mean that we’re something _else_.”

“Doesn’t it?” Louis smirks up at him when he bends down to roll the legs of his jeans a couple of times.

He steps in front of the mirror to have a look. They fit him around the waist, but his ass and thighs are truly giving them a run for their money with the way the fabric expands around them. God, Harry hopes he never takes them off.

Harry blinks back at him, trying to focus on their conversation as he considers what Louis is implying, and he guesses it really is as simple as that, because within a few seconds Louis is by his side. He straddles him, his thighs stretching across Harry’s lap as he settles his weight. He’s wearing a warm smile as he lightly runs his fingers through his curls. “You are _such_ an idiot.” It should really be an offensive statement, however it creates a storm of butterflies in his stomach from the soft tone he adopts when saying it. “What am I going to do with you?” he asks just as he presses their lips together.

When Louis pulls back, it’s with eyes so sincere that Harry could never doubt the way Louis feels about him or the fact they are really doing this.

Later, when they’re watching a movie on the couch, Harry hits him with another question that has been worrying him.

“Hey Lou? If you knew we were together then why didn’t you tell Niall that when he asked you? He said you wouldn’t give him a straight answer.”

Louis’ grin is wicked.

“Because love, Niall Horan is a nosy bastard and I happen to think it’s hilarious when he’s pouting.”

Considering Louis enjoys teasing everybody in almost every situation, withholding information from Niall for his own amusement sounds like something he would do. “You’re terrible,” Harry laughs.

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “But you’re with me anyway.”


	6. Chapter 6

In the next six months they make an effort to cross as many things off of their list as they can.

They finally see Christ the Redeemer when they take off to Brazil after a rainy afternoon spent on the couch when Louis turned to him with mischievous eyes and said, “I wonder what the weather’s like in Rio?”

Peru, a new addition to the list, is only a short plane ride away so they fly across South America to climb the Incan Trail and walk amongst the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu.

They end up on the Greek island of Santorini after a few restless weeks back at home, and then one day out of the blue Louis decides he wants to try surfing, so they catch the next flight out to Australia. They tour the Sydney Opera House and tan on the best beaches they can find. They both learn to surf even though Louis turns out to be the only one who’s actually good at it, and before they leave they get the opportunity to sail out to a small island along the Great Barrier Reef for a dive.

They experience things together that most people only ever dream of and Harry appreciates every memory, but he finds that even with all the bright and colorful distractions around them Louis is never far from his mind or his heart.

Harry gets good at reading his different smiles and grows fond of watching him nap against the windows of airplanes. His chest balloons each time Louis proudly takes his hand as they’re weaving through crowded streets and markets, and his heart nearly stops each time Louis chooses to kiss him rather than marvel at the beautiful things surrounding them.

At first Harry thinks he’s crazy with how much he feels just from being near the boy; it doesn’t take long before he realizes that he’s in love.

It’s not surprising really considering it is something that has always been there, but once Harry can put a name to it, it’s all he can think about. He doesn’t know if he should just say it or wait for Louis to do it first, but he decides that he can’t wait any longer one night when Louis comes over after spending the evening with his family.

He lets himself in with the set of keys that he insisted on having made when they first started dating and finds Harry in the kitchen. He immediately buries his nose in the layers of Harry’s hair when he hugs him from behind. “You smell really good.”

“Took a shower a little while ago,” Harry tells him. He turns away from the pot he had been stirring to give Louis the attention he’s obviously looking for with the way his hands are traveling along his waist. He takes Louis’ chin to tilt his lips up to his level. Louis makes a pleased sound, rising up on his toes to chase Harry’s tongue. His face crumples when Harry pulls back with a soft, “I missed you.”

“Cleary not a whole lot or else you would still be kissing me,” Louis mumbles.  Harry won’t fall for his guilt routine; not again anyway.

“I have to finish cooking.”

Louis sneaks his devious hands under Harry’s shirt to run his nails along the plane of his stomach. “Fuck dinner,” he smirks. “Come hang out with me instead.” Harry laughs at the tempting offer, knowing that a ‘come hang out with me’ from Louis has a completely different meaning than it would coming from most people. Harry has burned a lot of meals from falling for that line.

He politely declines and manages to squirm out of his reach to return to the food. Louis complains about it, but only for a couple of minutes before he takes a seat at the kitchen table to wait him out.

Harry sneaks glances at him from over his shoulder, and the urge to shout out what he’s feeling is overwhelming.  He has loved Louis for months, but tonight the feeling is amplified each time Louis glances up from his phone and meets his eyes. He wonders if Louis can tell how fast his heart is beating when he decides that now is as good of a time as any to let him know.

“Hey Lou? I was thinking about it earlier and I can’t remember the last thing we added to the list…”

Louis frowns, briefly looking up from his phone. “It was The Great Wall,” he says matter-of-factly.

“No, I think that was right before the other one you added... Could you please go get it for me so I can check? I would but,” Harry gestures at the pot of sauce he’s stirring and Louis hangs his head back like it’s a death sentence, but complies.

He returns a minute later with the journal; their list, a handful of pictures, and a pen sticking out from the pages. He places it down on the island before hopping up to perch himself on it as well.

“I’m telling you it’s China. I wrote it myself,” Louis says with absolute certainty.

“Could you check really quick to make sure?” Harry gives him his best puppy eyes as he points to the food he’s busy watching over. Louis rolls his eyes at him and mumbles something about him being hopeless as he pulls the list from the journal and unfolds it.

“I swear you are like the most forgetful person I’ve ever met. It’s going to say The Great Wall and then you’re going to be mad when I gloat because you know I’m always r-”

Harry turns to watch him as his words die on his lips.

“…What does it say, Lou?”

A stubborn grin breaks out on Louis’ face from having to admit that he’s wrong about the last thing written there, yet his voice is soft and full of emotion when he answers.

“It says, ‘to fall in love’.”  When Louis tears his eyes away from the words on the page, the strings of nerves that had wrapped themselves around Harry’s heart fall away. He never really doubted that Louis loves him, but being the first one to voice it is still a bit scary.

Harry takes the pen from beside him and draws a thick, black line right through the center of the words he wrote less than an hour ago. He drops everything he’s holding when Louis reaches for him.

“I love you too,” gets repeated half a dozen times between their lips, causing Harry to smile with each new declaration.

The sauce he’s supposed to be stirring starts bubbling angrily on the stove out of neglect, but Louis is so intent on holding Harry there that he locks him in the triangle of his legs and crosses his ankles so he can’t move.

Harry cackles into his mouth when he isn’t able to step away. “Lou, the food! We can’t just-”

“Yes we can. I already told you, fuck the food,” he says under his breath. Harry manages to break away and has just enough time to turn off the stove before Louis ropes him back in and slots their mouths together in another heated kiss. Harry wants to point out the fact that they’re not going to have anything to eat later, but he loses his train of thought when Louis deliberately shoves his tongue in his mouth.

With him being the most impatient and impulsive person on Earth, Harry had half expected for Louis to strip down right where he is and bend himself over the island or at least the table (it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened), which is why Harry’s surprised when he chooses instead to slide off the countertop and starts walking them in the direction of Harry’s room.

It’s a long journey through the house that lands them right in the center of the bed. Louis tugs at his waist until his body is flush against him, pressing him down into the mattress with his weight.

Harry could spend all night lying here with Louis beneath him this way. He loves the amount of emotion that Louis brings to their kissing even when it isn’t leading up to something more. Tonight is no exception, especially with the way Louis keeps nipping at his bottom lip to make his heart pound inside of his chest. He savors every bit of it while he can, because he knows from experience that this sweet, tender version of Louis will fade just as soon as arousal hits and his attention span reaches its end.

As if on cue he starts tugging at their clothes with hurried hands. Harry chuckles, causing Louis to narrow his eyes at him.

“What are you laughing at? Take this off,” he complains while trying to pull Harry’s shirt over his head. He throws it somewhere in the room and then heads straight for the drawstring of his joggers. He unties the bow holding them on Harry’s hips and sits up to shove them down his thighs to pool at his knees. He stops, just short of wrapping an eager fist around him when Harry chokes back another laugh.

“You do realize I’m the only one naked here, right?” he asks looking between them.

Louis frowns down at himself and the erection visible against his zipper and immediately starts working to pull off his shirt. Harry helps out by unbuttoning his jeans. He grins when he recognizes them as his own, now realizing why he couldn’t find them a few days ago and also why he thought Louis’ ass looked particularly enticing earlier.

They push their abandoned clothes to the floor when they’re finally bare, and when Harry kisses him, this time it’s not as rushed. Louis is so hard that he’s already leaking between them as Harry sets their new pace.

It has always interested him, how docile Louis becomes once they get to this point. Louis is always the loudest person in the room, no matter what. It’s such a stark contrast to what he’s like when he gets all worked up this way. It’s almost like looking at a different person with the way he lets Harry handle him.

A quick dig around the inside of his bedside table produces the lube and a condom, and Louis’ eyes darken, watching as Harry pops the cap and squeezes a few lines onto his longest fingers. He settles down where Louis’ thighs are open for him. He bites a trail down to his opening and licks over it before gently working the tips of his fingers inside.

Louis’ eyes are closed where he’s resting against the pillows, his chest heavily rising and falling with each shaky breath that his fingers draw from him. “I love you,” Harry whispers just to see his reaction. It’s a glorious one that causes Louis’ dick to twitch where it’s curved up against his stomach. His eyelids flutter open to reveal a sliver of dark blue that has Harry reaching for his own dick when it twitches on instinct.

“I love you too,” he gasps when Harry twists his fingers inside of him and his eyes roll back again. The words are still relatively new. They said them for the first time less than half an hour ago. He’s still getting used to hearing them, but the tingle they leave on Harry’s skin still feels just as wonderful.

He dedicates a few more minutes to opening him up before letting his fingers slip out of him. He moves to align their chests again.

When he meets Louis’ eyes he finds that his face looks pinched from concentrating so hard to not touch himself. Harry kisses his lips and reaches down to give him a few long strokes to take the edge off.

“Ready?” he asks when Louis’ head leaves the pillow from trying to chase his mouth. He flops back down with a soft whine when Harry circles a teasing thumb around the tip of his dick. He bites down on a smirk when Louis is only able to breathe a quiet yes. “You’re sure, Lou?” he asks again, partly to be certain that he won’t hurt him, but mostly because it’s always fun to tease him for a change.

When Louis nods, Harry gathers his lips in another long kiss before sitting back to open the condom and slip it on. He sits between Louis’ thighs, inching forward to line himself up. The two of them lock eyes and take a deep breath before Harry slowly pushes himself inside.

Louis’ face is the picture of concentration as he breathes through the stretch. Harry admires his focus, feeling his own features tightening with each second that passes that he’s not allowed to move. Harry waits for him though, even when the pressure feels so tight that it’s almost painful to stay so still.

“Now?” he grits out when the seconds start to bleed into minutes and he’s honestly hanging on by a thread.

He lets go of the breath he was holding when Louis gives him a quick succession of nods, consent that has Harry immediately retracting his hips to push back in.

Every soft roll of his hips has Louis clinging to him and panting in his ear, holding on as he’s being rocked into. His ankles are hooked together below Harry’s bum to help him get deeper inside. Harry can tell that it isn’t working a few minutes later when he still hasn’t found his spot.

“Turn over,” he instructs as he gently pulls out of him. He strokes himself while Louis hurries to settle down on his stomach.

Harry straddles him, his knees bracketing Louis’ thighs as he sits back to admire the line of golden skin that leads from the nape of Louis’ neck down to the roundness of his ass. His hands grip into as much of it as they can. He bites back a moan seeing how wide he’s already stretched.

He positions himself so that he’s looming over Louis’ body, his front parallel with the slight dip of Louis’ back as he reaches a hand between them to guide himself inside again. Louis’ fists grip into the sheets where his hands are splayed by his side as Harry experiments with different thrusts. He knows he has finally gotten it right when a ragged moan rips from the back of his throat.

Up until now, Louis had been pretty quiet. His silence used to concern Harry, seeing as how any other time he never seems to shut up. He used to spend inordinate amounts of time checking and double checking that he was alright, however the deep sounds he’s making now let Harry know that he’s feeling great without even having to ask.

Harry lets out a cry of his own when Louis rises up a bit on his knees to fit his hand between himself and the bed. It’s an unexpected move that pushes him back and has Harry’ stomach clenching to keep from coming too early.

His grip tightens around Louis’ shoulder as he tries to regain control when he can feel himself going over the edge. “I’m close,” he warns with bated breath. Louis nods, unable to say anything as his hand works somewhere that Harry can’t see. He gets lost watching the muscles of his shoulders work combined with the bit of sweat running down the slope of his spine and he feels himself slipping.  “ _Lou_ ,” he warns again when he can feel he orgasm building from within. To his relief, Louis comes just a few seconds before him when every sound he suppressed before comes out in a loud whine into the mattress.

The visual, the sounds, and the feeling of Louis tightening around him are all too much. Harry’s stomach tugs downward as he comes, his nails leaving imprints on Louis’ skin when his orgasm tears through him.

The room is blurrier than Harry remembers when he cracks his eyes open. He pulls out and ties the condom off, but he can’t make it any further than that before Louis is grabbing for him. He comes down with Louis lightly scratching against his scalp in the quiet. He kisses his lips, and Harry’s heart starts racing all over again when Louis whispers that he loves him.

It’s still early, but they lie there for so long and he’s so comfortable where Louis’ cradling him against his chest that he feels as though he could drift off for a nap. Unfortunately, he gets dragged back into consciousness when Louis’ voice rumbles against his ear.

“Haz?”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you asleep?”

Well not anymore, he isn’t. “Nope. Wide awake,” he answers sleepily.

“Oh…that’s good…”

There’s a short pause between his words that makes Harry wonder what he wants.

“Why? What’s up?” Harry asks curiously.

There’s another long pause before Louis reluctantly answers him. “Haz, I’m _really_ hungry,” he whines, causing Harry to snort a laugh into his chest. He pulls back to see Louis’ face pinched together from the ‘I told you so’ he thinks is coming. Harry takes pity on him though and refrains from saying it even though he really, _really_ wants to.

Louis gives him the most pitiful expression that Harry’s ever seen. He caves in an instant with a fond roll of his eyes.

“I’ll go finish cooking dinner.” The ‘ _even though I tried to tell you that you’d be hungry later’_ goes unsaid.

Louis sighs with relief and rewards him with a sloppy kiss for not gloating. “Thank you _so_ much! I’m literally _starving_ ,” he claims, making Harry laugh again and shake his head at the idiot grinning down at him.

“Remind me why I keep you around again?” Harry asks. His stomach flip flops when Louis’ fixes him with a look of complete adoration.

“Because I’m in love with you, and you love me too,” he says simply, and Harry can’t really argue with him when he knows every word to be true.


	7. Chapter 7

Weeks pass and turn into months, and before Harry knows it Niall’s wedding day is just around the corner. He does his duty as best man, helping him out whenever he needs it, providing a shoulder to lean and whine on when Camille orders him to ‘ _stop stalling and just pick a damn caterer already_!’ Being part of Niall’s wedding is something he has been preparing for since he was a kid. It’s an honor made even better when Louis is also asked to be one of his groomsman.

 

“Hey!”

They spring apart when Niall yells at them again from where his cousin is adjusting his tie to make sure it’s properly tucked down into his vest.

“What did I tell you two?” he asks, sounding only mildly annoyed that he and Louis are snogging each other’s faces off by the window again. They had been doing alright last night during the rehearsal dinner and throughout  all the other events of the week, but honestly, Harry can’t be held responsible for his actions when Louis Tomlinson is walking around in a suit that fits him like a glove. He is only human.

Harry apologizes although he’s not actually sorry, not even in the slightest. Louis however doesn’t even pretend to be.

“Where’s the justice in this?! No one else has a no kissing rule,” he argues while looking around at the rest of the wedding party still getting dressed.

Niall throws his hands up in exasperation. “That’s because no one else is _dating_ another groomsman. Now, chill the fuck out! This is my day!” Niall wrinkles his tie again when he crosses his arms over his chest. Louis’ eyebrows raise a fraction, clearly surprised by the little outburst. He bursts into a fit of giggles when Niall’s face is stuck in a pout from Robert having to start over.

Louis takes pity on the poor groom and walks over to wrap him in a hug even though he resists it at first.

“Alright, alright,” he says, patting his back. “I’m sorry, Ni. Truly. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Niall scoffs at his apology, but settles his chin in the dip of Louis’ shoulder regardless. He takes a deep breath, looking calmer already just from a hug from his friend.

“Sorry I yelled at you…I’m just nervous,” he bravely admits.

Harry’s expression turns wary at Niall’s confession of nerves, sensing another wave of teasing on the horizon. Harry’s heart swells with affection for his boyfriend when he does the unexpected and pulls Niall into an even tighter embrace, quelling any worries their friend may have.

“You and Camille are going to have the _best_ day, Ni. I just know it,” he promises soft enough that only a handful of people can hear his affirmation, and Harry thinks he can feel his heart melting onto the floor.

When Niall is less anxious, Louis comes back to stand at Harry’s side appearing much more collected and mature about the situation. Harry’s so proud of him that he breaks the rules one more time to press their lips together in a lingering kiss that leaves them both a bit hazy.

The apples of Louis’ cheeks are pink when Harry finally lets him go. His eyes dart around the room to make sure they haven’t been caught again, but Harry’s gaze never leaves him.

“What was that for?” he asks with a sly grin.

Harry shrugs and presses his lips to his forehead, having no real reason for that kiss other than the fact that he loves Louis so much that sometimes words simply are not enough. “I guess I just felt like kissing you.”

*

They stand one behind the other as they listen to Niall and Camille’s vows at the altar, and Harry isn’t sure if it’s their words of love and devotion or the fact that Louis sneaks his hand into his so that no one else can see, but something makes him wonder what it would be like to stand here with Louis again someday.

*

“I think I want to propose to Louis.”

Niall freezes and blinks up at him from where he was just cutting his steak. He carefully places his utensils to the side and leans back in his seat to watch Harry with quiet consideration.

“So when you say _think_ ….what do you mean exactly?”

Harry narrows his eyes at him. “I _mean_ that I want to propose to Louis. I want to buy the most perfect ring I can find, get down on one knee, place it on his finger, and then one day, you know, _marry_ _him_. Preferably one day soon,” Harry adds in case Niall is still having trouble following him.

It has been a total of four months since Niall’s wedding, and Harry has thought about marrying Louis every day since. Whether they’re lying in bed at his house or flying thirty-thousand feet in the air, he feels the same way.

“Okay,” Niall breathes after a long silence. “Hypothetically, if you were to propose, when would you do it?”

Harry frowns at him. “I don’t know. I don’t have a specific date in mind, Niall… I mean, I don’t even have a ring yet.”

Niall nods, looking more at ease after hearing that his and Louis’ engagement isn’t something that’s going to happen tomorrow.

Harry gets impatient with him when he isn’t responding the way he wants.

“Do you think it’s a good idea, Ni? You’ve done this before. What should I do?” Harry asks. His best friend is supposed to be the voice of reason and tell him when he’s doing something stupid. Right now he isn’t saying much of anything.

“Of course it’s a good idea. It’s a great idea, Haz. You and Louis are amazing together.”

Harry monitors his face when he smiles. Something’s not right about it.

“Then what’s the matter? Why are you being so strange about it?” Harry didn’t even act this weird when Niall told him he was proposing to Camille.

Niall laughs then, loud and full-bodied. He squeezes Harry’s hand where it’s resting on the table. “I swear I’m happy for you Haz. It’s just a lot to take in all at once, is all.”

*

He goes to see Phillip the next day, and the man’s bushy eyebrows shoot up above the rim of his glasses when Harry walks through his door. Harry has never requested a meeting with him for as long as they’ve known each other, but this is a special circumstance and it calls for drastic measures. Harry isn’t even annoyed when Phillip seems to read his mind, a smirk on his lips when Harry sits down in front of him to discuss his plans, and because Phillip is so great, he doesn’t say I told you so.

It takes some effort after he returns from his meeting, but eventually he’s able to drag Niall out of the house to go ring shopping. They look for the entire day, but he can’t seem to find the perfect one for Louis no matter where he goes. Most are too simple or too gaudy or too _something_ for his and Louis’ tastes, so Niall promises that they can try again tomorrow.

Harry comes home exhausted and disappointed where he collapses on his sofa. He’s still there when Louis lets himself in nearly an hour later.

He toes off his shoes and taps Harry’s shoulder in a silent request to let him sit down. Harry lets his head rest on his lap when he settles down onto the sofa. “Hard day?” he asks with a chuckle.

Louis has _no_ idea.

“Kind of,” he sighs. “I’m having trouble finding something for a friend.”

Louis’ fingers feel heavenly as they scratch along his scalp and then down the length of his arm. “Aw, you’re an amazing gift giver, love. I’m sure you’ll find whatever it is in the end and they’ll love it.”

Harry sighs again. He sure hopes so.

Louis lets him pick a movie, sensing that something still has him feeling down. He doesn’t even tease Harry about picking _Love Actually_ again _,_ even though they’ve seen it a hundred times. Harry watches other people’s love stories play out in front of him, feeling completely wretched when Colin Firth learns Portuguese so that he can propose to Aurelia in her native tongue. Harry fixes the screen with a cynical, envious glare, aimed right at Colin Firth and his big romantic gesture regardless of the fact that neither he nor Louis have ever been to Portugal, let alone speak the language.  Perhaps they should add it to the list.

The credits roll and Harry feels a bit better than when Louis found him lying here in his own misery. “You asleep?” Harry whispers from where his cheek is still resting on Louis’ thigh.

“No,” he answers. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m much better now that you’ve let me pout for an hour and a half,” he jokes. He sits up to press a kiss to Louis’ jaw. “Thank you for watching it with me again.” He gives Louis an appreciative smile. Louis quickly returns it.

“Of course, Haz. Anything for you.”

Harry stands to turn off the movie when he can’t find the remote. He tries to get Louis talking since he has been so quiet.

“So, how’re things at the house? How’s your sister?” Harry questions over his shoulder as he puts the movie away. Louis is taking a long time to respond, so Harry turns to see what has him so distracted. His whole body freezes when he finds Louis perched nervously on the edge of the couch with a small jewelry box in his hand.

He slides off his beanie with wide eyes and clears his throat when Harry has yet to move or even breathe.

“Come here, love.” He gestures for Harry to come back to the sofa with a shaky hand, and Harry walks toward him like he’s in a dream.

When he’s sitting down again, Louis places the box between them and reaches for his hands. Harry can see the deep breath Louis takes and it makes him feel marginally better, knowing that Louis is nervous too.

“I’ve wanted to do this a million times. I’ve known it for a while, but I was certain on the day Niall and Camille got married. I wanted to do this right then and there, but I think Niall would’ve had an aneurysm had I proposed to you on his wedding day.” Harry laughs for the first time in hours at the thought. Niall would’ve killed them both.

“I wanted to do it last month when we saw the Great Wall and again two weeks later when you took care of me while I was sick with a cold. I have thought about proposing to you every single day, but I could never seem to find the perfect moment, and I would’ve kept on waiting for the timing to be right had it not been for you being hell-bent and determined to propose to me first,” he smiles. “Niall called me as soon as the two of you had lunch. He told me that you and I think so much alike to the point that it’s scary, and that I better hurry up and do it soon before you beat me to it.”

“N-Niall knew all along?” Harry’s voice is gravelly when Louis nods to confirm his suspicion. The back of Harry’s throat burns when he sees tears pooling in Louis’ eyes.

“When he told me you made him go ring shopping today I panicked, because you have given me more than I could have ever imagined just by being with me. You are kind and compassionate and the absolute best person I have ever known. You give everyone else so much that I wanted to be able to give this one thing to you, Haz.”

Louis lets go of his hands to open the box and his eyes immediately start to sting with tears. The ring he’s holding is gold with an intricate pattern engraved into its sides. The face of the ring is square, and relatively plain, except for the single, midnight-colored sapphire in the center.

“This ring belonged to my grandfather. I’m not entirely sure of where he got it, but my guess is that it’s been passed down through the house. I’ve had it for years and even thought about selling it a few times, but I could never follow through. Something always told me to keep it,” he says while meeting his eyes. “And now I know why.”

He takes Harry’s hand and slides the cool metal onto his finger. Harry has to remind himself to breathe when his gaze flashes back up to Louis and his cheeks are wet.

“Harry, I love you more than I can even express. And I know that I’m an annoying arsehole at times, and bossy, and loud, all these other things that you put up with, but I also know that you love me, so if you would do me the honor, I want to ask you to please marry me.”

The tears that had been threating to spill over find release as they slide down Harry’s cheeks. He knew that getting engaged to Louis would be one of the happiest moments of his life, and it is. It’s perfect.

Harry is sure he looks like a mess when he falls into Louis’ waiting arms. He has been nodding this whole time, so he hopes Louis counts it as an answer. He wraps his arms around his neck and sinks them into a kiss that leaves him even more teary-eyed and breathless.

When they finally separate, Harry is brought back down to Earth when the light glints off of the sapphire staring up at him from his ring finger. Harry owns hundreds of pieces of expensive jewelry, however this one- this one particular ring is the only one that matters.


	8. Chapter 8

They decide to get married at The Tomlinson House, the place where it all began. Niall serves as best man for the both of them, and brags relentlessly that it was him who essentially brought the two of them together in the first place. He and Louis let him have his moment, especially since they’re jetting off half-way across the world again as soon as they say I do.

Harry frets with the collar of his jacket where he’s standing at the top of the creaky staircase. He can hear the strings die down and then start up again with the song they chose for their processional march, and he’s never been more nervous about potentially falling down a flight of stairs.

His mother takes his arm and gives it a light squeeze when she hears the cue of the music. She gives Louis’ mother a thumbs up where she’s waiting outside of her son’s door. She returns it, and then the two of them begin their slow descent.

His knuckles are white from so much attention as they float through the sunroom. They make it to the altar and his mother leaves a kiss on his cheek before taking her seat with the rest of their friends and family. It’s nerve-wracking standing by himself, but he’s only alone for a little while before the music swells up again and Louis is walking towards him with his mother on his arm. He looks just as gorgeous as he did the night they met in this very room, wearing a smile that would also be identical if it weren’t for the way his eyes are shining.

The attempt Harry had made to stay calm is forgotten when Louis’ mother kisses his cheek at the altar and leaves her son to stand beside him. Harry has been on the verge on tears all morning but he didn’t want to give Louis the satisfaction of him crying first, however he lets them fall when he sees that Louis has already forgotten his pride and is openly wiping at his eyes in front of all of these people.

The ceremony gets less emotional as the minutes pass, and pretty soon all Harry can focus on is the part where he becomes Louis’ husband.

Niall hands them the rings when they’re getting close. Harry’s heart feels like it’s in his throat when he slides the golden band onto Louis’ finger, a satisfaction like nothing else he’s ever felt in life when Louis beams up at him. Louis repeats the process and slides Harry’s wedding band onto his finger until it’s nestled against his grandfather’s ring.

Harry doesn’t hear anything else going on in the room, but his ears perk up when Louis is asked to say ‘I do.’ He watches Louis’ mouth form the words, his eyes shining again as he waits for Harry to repeat them. The officiant reads off the list of promises that he’s swearing to keep and Harry rushes to agree, saying ‘I do’ so quickly that Louis and everyone else laughs. They have to listen to some other stuff that Harry couldn’t care less about at the moment, and then finally the moment comes. His heart has never felt so full and light all at once when Louis reaches for him and connects their lips. Their kiss is fueled by excitement and adrenaline, and Harry is certain that he’ll never feel happier than in this moment.

*

“You two don’t even _need_ a honeymoon. You’re never in the country as it is,” Niall grumbles as he’s hugging them goodbye. Camille nudges him in the arm to shut him up.

“He’s just jealous,” she laughs. “He’s been complaining about it for weeks.”

Niall turns to her with a traitorous look. “I have not! I love the Caribbean,” he explains like his fondness for the islands will change their minds about letting him join. “I’m just saying you could’ve invited me along. Not for the honeymoon parts but just, you know, for moral support or whatever.”

Harry smirks, pretty confident that he won’t need help or moral support from anybody to have a good honeymoon with his husband. Louis’ grin says the same thing when they lock eyes.

“Well, we have a flight to catch,” Louis announces out of nowhere, waving to their guests that have come to the entryway to see them off for their island hopping adventure.

Niall rolls his eyes. “It’s a private fucking plane. It leaves whenever you tell it to,” he says, leaning in to wrap them both in a final embrace.  “Goodbye. I love you both. Have fun. Get out.”

They are all too happy to oblige as they practically run out the door with the promise to see them all in a couple of weeks.

Niall was right when he said there was no rush, so they take their time getting to the airport. They’re only a little bit late from stopping off at Harry’s to change and get their suit cases. Now there’s nothing left to do, but sit back and enjoy the nine hour ride.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Harry asks when Louis has yet to relax beside him. His determined hands have been riffling through both of their bags since take off.

“The list,” he answers. “I know I packed it…I made sure of it.” His eyes light up when he produces a pen and the folded up list from a side pocket of his duffel.

He reads through the list of items until he finds the one that he needs.

“ _Marry the love of my life,_ ” he reads as he draws a line through it. When he’s done he places his hands on either side of Harry’s face for kiss that’s a lot more heated than the one they shared at the altar.  

Harry laughs when they break apart and Louis is still scanning the page. “Now what are you doing? You can’t mark off the Caribbean until after we’ve been there,” he reminds him.

Louis shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I’m looking for...I’m looking for-Ha! Here it is!” he shouts when he finds it scribbled in between Niagara Falls and Moscow. Harry’s eyes grow wide looking down at the paper.

“ _Now?_ ” he asks, scandalized. “But- But they’ll know! The crew-” he tries, but he can tell Louis is already sold on the idea.

“Oh come on, Haz! We’re the only passengers! If not now, then when?” Harry can’t believe the amount of determination in his eyes. “It’ll be so hot and so much fun! Please? _Please? Please?!_ ”

He sighs, caving before Louis can break out the dreaded puppy eyes. “Fine,” he relents with a smile, “But I’m not going first.”

That stipulation doesn’t deter Louis in the slightest. He rummages through their bags again until he finds a packet of lube. He slips it into his pocket before bravely making his way through the cabin and inside of the bathroom. He’s only gone for about thirty seconds before he pokes his head out of the door to beckon him with the worst line Harry has ever heard.

“Hey, Haz… I don’t know how to work the sink… Come help me,” he calls out.

Louis’ pathetic excuse doesn’t catch the attention of anybody except the lone stewardess near the front who kindly pretends like she didn’t hear.

Unlike Louis, the thrill of getting caught makes him more nervous than anything when he stands to join him. His heart is hammering when he steps through the door and Louis is waiting for him with slick fingers and his joggers pooled at his feet.

“Hurry up,” Louis orders him.

Harry’s body responds immediately, his hands already working to shed his clothing before his mind has accepted that this is really happening. They make quick work of opening Louis up before he’s bending himself over the sink he claimed he didn’t know how to use and lets Harry enter him from behind.

Harry has never worked so hard to be quiet in all of his life, which turns out to be a wasted effort when Louis comes in just a few minutes with a loud cry that gets amplified in the basin of the sink. Harry gets pulled over the edge as well, but he isn’t nearly as loud with the soft whine he bites into Louis’ skin.

They stumble out of the bathroom one at a time even though there’s no way everyone didn’t just hear them. The stewardess is still hard at work smoothing out the same blanket she had been folding when Harry left, and again, he’s grateful for her false ignorance.

Louis unfolds the list and relocates, ‘ _Join the_ _Mile High Club_.’ He makes Harry mark through it with an overly pleased smirk.

“Thanks, love. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Harry fondly rolls his eyes. “Well technically you could’ve… _you know_ ,” Harry says in a low voice. “But, I’m glad I could help out.”

“Wanks don’t count and aren’t nearly as much fun,” Louis says like the rules of the Mile High Club are common knowledge. “Go on Harry, admit it. It was hot and you liked it.” Harry can’t help his smile as he shakes his head at his ridiculous husband. He still can’t believe he gets to call him that. He still can’t believe he can’t say no to the idiot.

“It was more than hot and I loved it… I’m also glad that you have the scary ability to talk me into doing anything you want.”

“I know you are, love,” Louis kisses his jaw before returning the lube, list, and the pen to his bag. “And that’s exactly why I married you.”

\----

 

Six Years Later

Harry opens his eyes to bright sunshine and immediately closes them again. He’s just about to drift back off when Louis wrenches his arm away from his face.

“Oh no you don’t!  Wake up!”

Harry doesn’t fight it even though he’s exhausted. He and Louis were up most of the night from being too excited and wired to sleep. He has no idea how Louis is so bright eyed when he’s sure Louis got the least amount of sleep between the two of them.

“Good morning.” Harry’s words turn into a big yawn as he rolls onto his back to properly wake up. Louis moves to lay half on top of his chest.

“You mean _great_ morning,” he beams down at him. “Go on, ask me what day it is,” he pushes.

Harry can feel his excitement radiating between them. He adopts a huge smile of his own that stretches across his face when his brain catches up to what Louis is so excited about. “What day is it, love?”

“It’s Due Date Day!”

Harry laughs at the way his eyes light up from finally getting to say it. They’ve all been waiting for this day, counting down for months and weeks, which is no easy task for someone as impatient as Louis. He’s surprised Louis slept at all last night.

Their surrogate, Sarah, has had two successful pregnancies for other couples in the past, and each of those babies came a few days early. Louis had been certain that their baby would come before his due date as well, but so far nothing has happened. Harry and everyone else knows that Louis is counting on their baby arriving today; no one except Harry has the heart to tell him that it doesn’t always work that way despite what the doctor says.

“Louis, remember what the doctor said…” Harry carefully reminds him, so as not to get their hopes up too high.

Louis waves him off just like he did with the doctor after they were informed that their baby is healthy and ready to join the world any day now. “It’s going to be today,” Louis assures him. “I can feel it.”

“You said that yesterday and the day before,” Harry points out with a smirk.

Louis pinches him in the arm. “It’s not my fault that our kid is stubborn.”

“Hmmm... Wonder where he got that from?”

“Probably the same gene pool that he got being an annoying prat from,” Louis quips back.

“Hey!” Harry yells, taking offense and pinching Louis in retaliation. He doesn’t even flinch, his smile growing wider as he moves to lie next to Harry, rather than _on_ him.

“Who do you think he’ll look more like?” he asks dreamily as he stares up at the ceiling.

Harry links their hands between them as he thinks about it again. They had originally planned to use Harry’s sperm and a donor egg from the surrogacy agency they used. Back then, he and Louis had hoped the baby would look somewhat like Harry. Then one day, of her own accord, Louis’ eldest sister volunteered to donate an egg for them. Their child will have both of their families’ genes, so now the possibilities are endless.

“I want him to have your hair, I think,” Harry finally decides.

Louis tugs at a random lock of Harry’s hair that is so long now that it grazes his chest. “Yeah, me too,” Louis teases, causing them both to laugh.

“I hope he has Tomlinson eyes as well. They’re so beautiful and blue.”

“Really?” Louis flips onto his side with a look of disbelief. “I was hoping they’d be green like yours... I’ve always loved your eyes,” Louis admits. Harry can feel his cheeks warm from the compliment. Louis ruins the moment about five seconds later. “I hope he grows up to be as tall as you and as graceful as me.”

Harry frowns at him, half tempted to pinch him again. “Hey! What are you implying?”

“Nothing at all,” he grins with the face of innocence. “Simply that our child should inherit your supermodel height.” The part where he’s low-key calling Harry clumsy goes unsaid.

They lie there, daydreaming about their son until Louis can’t stand being still any longer. He’s up and on the phone with all of their friends and family, declaring today as the day their baby comes. Harry fondly shakes his head at him, praying that he’s right.

He’s proud of him for not driving Sarah insane all day, however, around three in the afternoon Louis starts to get anxious. He calls her up and asks the same barrage of questions he has asked her all week. The questions range from how she’s feeling, if she needs anything, to if there has been any sort of change. She says no, giggling like always at Louis’ dedication, but swears to call the millisecond that something happens.

Louis flops face first onto the couch around six o’clock with a long drawn out sigh. “Your kid is taking forever!”

Harry makes an offended sound at the back of his throat. “ _My_ kid? He’s got half of your family’s genes. He’s your kid too.”

“Not when he’s being stubborn like this, he isn’t. I mean really, how hard is it to be born on time? I did it and I’m never on time for anything.”

Harry is quick to agree with that last statement. “He’s just trying to make a grand entrance. He likes the attention just like his dad.”

He knows things are really getting to Louis when he doesn’t even laugh at his joke. Harry leaves his armchair to come sit on the sofa with Louis. He holds him close, cradling him against his chest.

He seems less on edge with Harry holding him, but something still seems off. Louis clears his throat after a few minutes, his voice sounding small and scared.

“Haz? Do you think something might be wrong?”

The question does something funny to Harry’s chest when he asks it. He doesn’t even want to consider that. He can’t, but he can help put Louis’ mind at ease.

“The doctor said our baby is healthy and that everything looks great. Sarah is healthy and she has done this before…I don’t think anything is _wrong_. I think it’s just taking a little longer than we expected, love.”

The worry etched onto his face starts to fade. “You really think so?”

Harry can’t know any of that for sure, but he sure hopes that he’s right.

“I’m sure of it, love.”

*

It’s just after ten o’clock when Louis drags himself out of the nursey room for the hundredth time today. Harry tries to comfort him in every way he knows how, but he can still tell that he’s disappointed. They go to bed soon after that, feeling exhausted even though the only thing they did all day was wait around the house.

As they lie in bed, Harry holds Louis close to him, praying that their baby comes soon for both of their sakes. He gets his wish when his phone rings at half past two in the morning.

Louis springs up with eyes so bright, no one would ever be able to tell that he was just asleep. The phone isn’t even in his hand yet, and already Louis is asking questions.

“Who is it? Is it her?”

Harry nods to confirm and puts the phone on speaker. “Sarah? Hi, how are you?” Harry rumbles into the receiver.

She greets them sounding wide awake. Harry glances at the clock; it’s two thirty-eight. He’s impressed. “I thought something had changed about an hour ago, but I wanted to be sure before I woke you two up. I’m definitely having contractions, so I’m heading over to the hospital soon.”

Louis snatches the phone out of his hand even though he can hear her perfectly through the speaker. “Sarah, are you sure? These aren’t like those fake contractions or anything…like, it’s _really_ happening? These are real?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the receiver that makes Harry wince for her. “Oh yeah,” she grits out. “These are painfully real.”

Neither of them needs more convincing than that before they’re jumping out of bed. They promise to meet her at the hospital as soon as possible. Harry has never moved faster to get somewhere on time in his life.

Each of their phones are working overtime as they hurry to call everyone and inform them that baby Tomlinson-Styles is officially on the way. Most of their loved ones arrive at the hospital just after they do, a palpable energy thrumming through the waiting room as they settle in.

Harry and Louis have to stop to compose themselves before going in to see Sarah. They only enter the room once they appear less manic for Sarah’s sake. Louis calms down a considerable amount when the doctors tell them it’ll still be a while before there’s a baby, but he looks so thrilled that Sarah is even in labor that his smile never fades.

The two of them get quieter as the hours pass and blur. Louis has been pacing in the corridor or choosing to wait with their families, but he hasn’t said much. No one would be able to guess that he had been wide open this morning.

“You alright?” Harry asks him when they’re just stepping out of Sarah’s room again.

He nods enthusiastically. “I’m great. Fantastic even.”

Harry laughs at the way he’s over compensating.

“You look scared out of your mind.”

Louis covers his face when Harry draws a laugh out of him. “That’s because I am… but it’s a _good_ scared, you know?”

When it comes to Louis, Harry has been scared shitless plenty of times. Riding in a hot air balloon, riding the world’s tallest rollercoaster, and even jumping out of a fucking plane over the island of Hawaii after Louis had to practically push Harry out of it are just a few examples, but being here for the birth of their child is by far the scariest thing they’ve done together. It also happens to be the best.

“I know exactly what you mean,” Harry grins.

*

The sense of calm that had settled over the night gets demolished once the doctor says it’s time to push. Sarah had said they could be in the room, but Harry doesn’t want to be one of those fathers that ends up fainting, so he chooses to stand outside of the door, and because his husband is so wonderful, he opts to wait with him.

Neither of them dare speak a word as they listen at the door. Harry feels like he has been standing there with his ear pressed against the wood for ages, and then finally they hear the unmistakable first cry of their son.

The world feels like it’s underwater when a nurse comes to usher them inside. He registers the room full of hospital staff and the words that they are saying to him, but nothing stands out until a nurse walks towards them with something settled into the crook of her arm. He sees the baby nestled there, but he doesn’t believe he’s actually real until the nurse asks which of them would like to hold him first.

Harry shakes his head and places a hand on Louis’ shoulder to give him the honor. After all, Louis has been waiting a _very_ long time to meet him.

During their time together, Harry has only seen Louis cry a handful of times. Once, when he proposed, a second time at their wedding, and again one morning when he found, ‘ _Start a Family’_ scribbled onto their list in Harry’s handwriting. Those few times hardly matter at all when their son is finally placed in his husband’s arms. He sucks in a ragged, wet breath as he stares down at their son crying in the quiet room. Louis spends a long time just looking at him, memorizing him like he’s having trouble believing he’s real as well. He places the gentlest kiss Harry has ever seen on his forehead before turning to Harry and offering him a chance to hold him.

It still feels like a dream, even with the very real and tiny weight he’s holding in his hands. Harry counts each of his fingers and runs his finger along the slope of his tiny nose, thanking heaven that it looks just as cute as Louis’. His hair is dark like his own. It’s too soon to tell if it’ll be straight or curly, but Harry thinks it would be perfect either way. His son blinks his eyes open for a fraction of a second to reveal a sliver of light blue and that’s all it takes for Harry lose it. He hands the baby back to the nurse when he starts crying so hard that tears start to fall on the soft blanket covering his son’s tiny feet.

Louis is all smiles again with his eyes still swimming with tears when he pulls Harry into him. It’s the wettest kiss they’ve ever shared, but Harry also thinks it may be the best.

They walk to the waiting room together to tell their friends and family the good news. Congratulations and questions fly at them from every direction, but the question that sticks out the most is the same one he and Louis have spent the last nine months debating over.

“What are you going to call him?” Louis’ mother asks, looking just as excited about having a grandson as he and Louis did this morning about becoming dads.

There were a few names that both of them liked, but could never agree on. They decided to wait until he was born to see which one would fit him best, and now that they’ve met him, the choice is obvious. They lock eyes wearing identical grins when they tell the room in unison that their son will be called Matthew.

*

The sun is shining bright when he and Louis manage to sneak away from everyone and head downstairs to get something to eat. They almost make it to the cafeteria as planned, however Louis grabs his hand and guides them in a different direction.

They spot their son sleeping in the nursery along with three other babies with his little fists balled up on each side. Louis’ voice is quiet even though Matthew can’t hear from the other side of the glass.

“I can’t believe we really get to take him home. I keep thinking I’m dreaming and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry drops a kiss to his temple. “I promise you’re not dreaming. I can pinch you if it’ll help.”

Matthew yawns wide like a tiny kitten. Louis coos through the glass at him, but doesn’t miss a beat. “Pinch me and I’ll be forced to retaliate in front of our son.”

Harry bites down on his stupidly happy grin. They have a _son_.

“I can’t believe we’re here. A year ago this was just another item on the list, and now it’s something real that we can cross off.”

Louis sighs, still captivated by their son doing absolutely nothing except existing. “Yeah, I know. Too bad it’s at home.”

Harry smiles to himself, thankful he had the presence of mind to grab it before they ran out of the house.  “You mean this old thing?” he asks as he produces the list and a pen from his back pocket. It’s faded and so creased that it’s tearing a little at the edges, but Louis still smiles when he sees it like it’s an old familiar friend.

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did. Someone had to. You were so insane when Sarah called that you probably couldn’t even spell the word list, so I got it right before we left.”

Harry carefully unfolds it and finds the item he’s looking for. He hands the pen to Louis and feels his heart overflowing with pride when he draws a line through their latest achievement.

Louis pulls him in for a long kiss that makes Harry feel even lighter (although he didn’t think it was possible). Louis holds him afterwards to let the moment linger and resonate between them.

“So, we’ve officially started a family. What next?” Louis smirks. “World domination?”

A nap is Harry’s first thought, but then he takes time to read through the list of things they have yet to do. They can go anywhere in the world and do whatever they want. Harry looks through the glass at their beautiful son and realizes that for now, he just wants to be right here.

“I was thinking that maybe we could stick around for a bit? See what trouble we can get into around here with Matthew.”

He’s grateful when Louis grins and takes his hand, proof that he feels the exact same way.

“I was really, _really_ hoping you’d say that.”

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to FallingLikeThis (Zayniam) for always being so amazing, and thank you for reading :) I hope you enjoyed it!


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